Purple Heart
by sym64
Summary: "Being wounded or killed in any action against an enemy of the United States or as a result of an act of any such enemy or opposing armed forces" – Awarding criteria for a Purple Heart.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Purple Heart**

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer:** Unfortunately they are still not mine. I hope CBS and whoever owns the rights to Five-0 doesn't mind too much that I'm borrowing them for a short while. I promise to put them back when I'm done. They might even be in better condition afterwards. ;-)

**Summary: **"Being wounded or killed in any action against an enemy of the United States or as a result of an act of any such enemy or opposing armed forces" – Awarding criteria for a Purple Heart.

**A/N:** I have a confession to make, well, okay, to most of you it won't come as a surprise. I love SEAL Steve. Duh!

I think he is the character with the most interesting background on the show. His knowledge and what he had to learn, endure, and what he experienced is far beyond what the other three can even imagine. (NO, I'm not dissing any of the others. But Steve's level of education is far superior to attendance at the police academy.)

Anyway, I'm simply saying that I would love to learn more about what Steve did in Naval Intelligence and as a SEAL. Peter Lenkov had answered one of my tweets and said that Steve was a SEAL first and later joined NI as a cover for covert SEAL OPs. This story is about his time long before he came back to Hawaii and became the leader of the Task Force.

But, since I really like Five-0, they are all in this story. I love writing flashbacks, so this story is really a continuation of Treason. Steve and Danny have some recovery to do, and Steve might be willing to answer some questions about his past.

I'm aware that this is not for everyone since it is mostly about Steve, pre-Five-0. If it's not for you, I don't have a problem with that, and you might like to skip this one.

For all the others, you will get action, drama, hurt, comfort, humor, teamwork, friendship and romance.

At the end of this chapter you will find a list of the 'medals' Steve has been awarded according to the show.

As always the facts told in this story are heavily researched and accurate to the best of my knowledge. But as always some facts are boring, and therefore needed some tweaking. ;-) Always remember this is for enjoyment, not to get a doctorate.

**Thank you:** When I came to Cokie with yet another idea for a story, although there were a few already in the works, she didn't groan and blew me off, nope, she encouraged me to write it.

So you have to thank her for this epilogue turning into a multi chapter story. Thank you, my friend, for always encouraging me to go the extra mile. ;-)

And thanks to Sherry57 for taking the time to take a look at this baby. It is always a great pleasure to discuss grammar with you. My teachers from all those years ago would not believe that I would love a grammar lesson. But you always make it fun. Thank you.

* * *

**Purple Heart – Chapter 01**

_**Prologue**_

Steve was getting a little irritated. For almost two hours now Gracie had been glancing his way, and every time he caught her, she hastily looked away. Like he had seen her doing something she wasn't supposed to do. It was getting unnerving.

There was a lot of tension going around without Grace adding to it. He had thought it would be a good idea to have his friends over for a Bar-B-Q, and so far it was going better than he had feared. His mother was behaving herself and trying to get along with Chin and Max. They were both happy to come over, but Kono was spending the day with Adam. Doris and Danny seemed to be a lost cause though. Catherine was doing her best to help Steve relax and just enjoy the evening, but the tension was rolling off him in waves. He was just waiting for the explosion, for the evening to end in disaster.

"Steve, relax. Everything is fine. They are all getting along," Cath whispered to him when she leaned in to steal a kiss.

"Mom and Danny are a disaster waiting to happen. Just look at them," Steve motioned to his best friend and his mom, both currently busy putting plates on the table out on the lanai. "They haven't said more than three words to each other since Danny and Grace arrived."

"Well, they have both found their match. They are both very vocal with what they think… so…"

"That's what I'm worried about," Steve told Catherine.

"Don't worry, I don't think there will be any blood shed today," Cath answered with a laugh.

"Very funny." Steve looked past the two trouble makers, and watched Chin, Max and Grace for a moment. They had started digging holes in the sand, and Steve wondered what Grace planned to build. Last time she was here she made a replica of the Aloha Canal. This part of the beach was not really good for sand castles, but one could dig really great holes in it. Steve had to smile at the enthusiasm with which she was tackling her latest project.

"Come on, let's get the drinks out and start on the steaks." Cath gently pushed Steve out the door onto the lanai, careful not to disturb his balance while he used one crutch to hobble around.

Half an hour later they were all sitting around the table, laughing and eating. And Gracie was still throwing covert glances Steve's way.

"Gracie, is there something you would like to ask me?" Steve couldn't keep quiet any longer; his curiosity was killing him.

"I'm sorry, Uncle Steve, I didn't mean to stare at you," Grace told him while blushing.

"What's going on?" Danny wanted to know.

Grace looked around the table and was aware that they were now all looking at her for an explanation. "I was just trying to see what was wrong with Uncle Steve," Grace almost whispered.

Danny snorted and grinned at his friend. Steve glared at him, daring him to say anything. "Grace, what do you mean?"

"I can't see anything missing, but you got one, so I thought there has to be something else wrong."

It was clear that none of his friends had any idea what Grace was talking about. And one look at Danny showed Steve that even her dad had no idea what was going on. "Uh, Gracie, I don't think I understand what you mean. What do I have wrong?"

"Last week, in our last history lesson before the holidays, we watched a film about Pearl Harbor and the Navy. We saw black-and-white pictures from long ago, and then how it looks today. Uncle Steve, will you take me to the Arizona Memorial one day?" Grace asked without missing a beat, and kept talking about the film.

"Then in the film they were on a carrier, like Catherine worked on, and they said that they were often…" she paused for a moment, obviously in search for the right word, "docked in our harbor."

"Okay, so you saw a film about Pearl Harbor?" Steve still didn't understand where she was going with this.

"Yes. And in the film, there was a ceremony where some of the soldiers received medals. It was really sad, two men were missing an arm, others a leg, and a few others were sitting in wheelchairs." Grace looked at Steve before she continued with her story, "A man with lots of ribbons on his chest gave the medals to the injured soldiers; he had a lot more than you have on your uniform."

"Grace, when did you see me in uniform?" Steve couldn't remember ever having been in uniform around Grace.

"I saw a picture when I found the boxes," Grace answered quietly.

"What boxes?"

"Uncle Steve, I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to snoop around in your desk drawer. I was looking for my pencils, and the drawer was kind of open, and I saw the picture…"

"It's okay, Gracie. Don't worry," Steve assured her that he wasn't mad at her. Of course now he knew what boxes she was talking about.

"I opened them and you have two of the medals the injured soldiers got. And… but… you are perfect. You are not missing anything… so I thought maybe there was something wrong that I couldn't see. I'm sorry, Uncle Steve." Grace hung her head, like she was waiting to be punished.

"Gracie, it's okay. I'm not mad." Steve smiled at his honorary niece and hoped she would understand that even though it's not okay to look into other people's drawers without asking, he was still not mad at her for doing so.

"Uncle Steve, did you get them because you were hurt fighting the bad guys?"

"Something like that, Grace." _How do you explain the concept of fighting in a war to a ten-year old? _Steve thought.

"But you are okay now, aren't you?"

"Yes, Gracie, I'm fine," Steve assured her.

"Good." Grace looked at her dad and asked, "Can I get back to building my canal?"

"Yeah, sure, but don't go too close to the water," her father told her.

They all watched her skip down to the beach, back to her innocent playing. The mood at the table was a bit somber; all of them were suddenly reminded that Steve had seen a lot of combat.

"Will you tell us what you received the two Purple Hearts for?" Danny asked his friend. He had never read Steve's file, most of it was classified anyway. He only knew very little about what Steve had been doing during his time with the Navy.

Steve looked around the table and could see that his friends were curious about the stories behind the medals. He was not one to talk about his time before Five-0. About most of it he couldn't talk, but even if he could he wouldn't. He didn't join the Navy or the SEALs to find recognition. And he knew they would be okay if he declined to talk about it. But for some reason, he felt like sharing this experience with them today.

"The first injury was pretty straight forward and really no big deal. It happened in 2002 in Afghanistan. I was shot by a sniper high up on my right leg. It was a through and through, with no bone damage. It bled a lot and they flew me out to Kandahar. I spent three weeks there before I could go back to my unit."

"You only needed three weeks to recover from a gunshot wound?" Max asked almost in awe, probably remembering his own experience.

"I was really lucky. A bullet from a sniper rifle normally fragments on impact. You want to make sure that your target stays down after a hit," Steve informed them. "But the bullet went right through my leg with minimal damage. Well, it nicked an artery, and I lost a bit of blood, but a medic was right next to me when it happened. He prevented me from bleeding out."

Steve remembered vividly how Tom packed the wound on both sides with anticoagulant gauze. That stuff had saved his life.

"I'm sure there is a lot more to that story than 'I was shot by a sniper'," Danny said what all of them were probably thinking.

Steve grinned at him, "I can neither confirm nor deny that."

"Let me guess; it's classified."

"Wow, you got it in one." Steve couldn't tell them where he was in Afghanistan or what his unit had been doing there, so that is all what they were going to get about his first injury.

"Were you as lucky the second time?" Chin asked.

"For the record, I don't think getting injured during war is considered 'being lucky'," Cath threw into the round. Which got her an appreciative nod from Doris, who was listening to her son with great interest, but the worry showed on her face.

"Yes, it should be. I could have easily died from that bullet. I _**was**_ lucky," Steve said with conviction and leaned over to give his girlfriend a gentle kiss. He knew that hearing about him getting injured, even so many years back, was not easy for her.

"So, about the second time…" Danny reminded his friend.

Steve looked around to make sure that Grace was still out of earshot. "That time I was not lucky at all. I almost died."

H50 – H50 – H50

**Pentagon – Washington D.C. – Spring 2006**

Steve had tried to get comfortable for the umpteenth time in the last hour. But no matter what position he took, his legs and back hurt. When he'd woken up this morning, he already knew it would be a bad day. Half an hour ago he even had to give in and take one of the prescription pills. They helped a little, but Steve knew that he wouldn't last much longer. He already had trouble concentrating on the text in front of him. His usual headache had started half an hour ago, and he should have called it quits then.

But he was stubborn, and was more than willing to beat this thing. His therapists told him repeatedly that he was trying too hard. But it was the only way he knew how to operate. Giving up was not an option. Never. Besides four hours of work a day could hardly be called 'trying too hard'. Four hours… that was the maximum Steve could concentrate before the headache and dizziness forced him to lie down.

Steve took his glasses off and squinted at the file, but the lines still blurred before his eyes. _Guess it's time to go home. _Steve put the files on his desk in one folder and locked it in the top desk drawer. He was a bit frustrated with his lack of progress in analyzing the data, even though his CO had assured him that his work on the case was invaluable. But Steve felt like this was only occupational therapy. He didn't feel very productive at the moment.

Steve pushed away from his desk and maneuvered his wheelchair around to tell his CO that he would be leaving. In the last two months, he had become an expert in handling the lightweight wheelchair. At first, he'd hated that thing with a passion and was not willing to even sit in it. But he had realized quickly that it gave him a great deal of independence and freedom. And Steve was determined to get out of it as soon as possible anyway. So he learned to use it to the best of his ability.

It was actually a pretty amazing, high tech thing. It was lightweight and there was no unnecessary material on it. It was not quite a sports-wheelchair, but for sure not an ordinary one.

"Steve, are you leaving for PT?" His colleague of six weeks, Lieutenant Peter Thomson asked.

"No, they gave me the day off. They told me to relax today," Steve told him. Those were actually not the words his therapist used; she had some choice words for him. She had told him in very clear terms that he was exhausted, and she didn't want to see him until next week. And that he shouldn't dare work for more than four hours a day, and to sleep at least for ten. As if that would happen without a knockout pill. Which he didn't like to take, they gave him nightmares.

"That's probably good advice; you look tired."

"Jeez, thanks Pete."

Peter only grinned at him and turned back to his files. Steve liked him. He was a quiet person and didn't ask any stupid questions about what had happened to Steve. He even had offered his help when Steve encountered a problem in the men's room on his first day. And there had been no pity in his eyes, and no hesitancy in offering his help. Steve learned shortly after the incident that Peter's brother had had an accident a year ago and had been bound to a wheelchair ever since.

Steve always hated it when people acted weird around him. He was just sitting in a wheelchair; he was still just Steve. But most people had no idea how to act around someone not standing next to them, but sitting down. He had never been aware of that problem until he ended up being the one sitting down, while everyone else was towering over him.

He shook his head and wheeled over to his CO's office door, after a short knock he was called in.

"Lieutenant McGarrett, I was just coming to see you." Steve was greeted by his temporary CO, Commander Brennan.

"Sir?"

"Your doctor called and informed me that you are on sick leave for the rest of the week."

"What? Sir, I'm fine. I don't need any leave." Steve couldn't believe that his therapist really went to his doctor to rat him out.

"Lieutenant… Steve… you are not feeling well. Everyone can see that. Go home, get some rest. And come back on Monday, well rested. It's only four days."

"Yes, Sir." Steve knew that he had no choice anyway, but that didn't mean he had to like it. What the heck was he supposed to do for four days? He was not even allowed to use the pool at the Rehab Center. This would be some really long four days.

H50 – H50 – H50

Steve normally took the Metro to get from the Pentagon to Bethesda and vice versa. The Navy had provided him with a small apartment that met his special needs. It was practically on the grounds of the Medical Center, so he could easily reach his different therapy sessions. He had lived there for 6 weeks now; the first two in D.C. he had spent in the Medical Center until he was fit enough to get around on his own.

The first week he had been allowed to go to work for a few hours every day, he used a cab to get to the Pentagon. But after that, he felt confident enough to manage with the Metro. He only used a cab now when he wasn't feeling well. And today was one of those days. He had called his usual cabby, Tyrese, and asked him to pick him up at the entrance of the North Parking Lot. It was easy to reach for Ty and for Steve, whose office was in the wing closest to that entrance.

When Steve took the Metro, he always had a long way to go to reach the station. Well, not really to 'go', more to roll, or wheel there. It always took a bit of time. Taking the cab spared him that. Steve thankfully only had to wait five minutes for Ty to arrive.

"Hey, Steve, sorry I'm late," Ty called to him as he came around the car.

"No, it's fine; I just got here."

"You need a hand today?" Tyrese looked at Steve before he opened the back door.

"Afraid so."

"Okay."

Ty maneuvered the wheelchair into the right position, stepped between Steve's legs, and bent down to 'hug' Steve. Without any hassle, he hauled Steve out of the chair, which elicited a loud groan from Steve. "Did I hurt you?"

"No. I'm just really stiff today. Didn't do any exercises this morning," Steve said as Ty carefully positioned him sideways onto the back seat.

"Can you manage the rest alone?"

"Yeah, thanks." Steve pushed himself deeper into the cab and helped his legs into the cab. It was not like he couldn't move his legs, they just wouldn't really obey. And they for certain weren't able to carry his weight.

His brain still stubbornly refused to send the right signals out. But he was getting there. He hoped. When he was finally sitting more or less comfortably in his seat, he leaned his head back and waited while Ty finished stowing his wheelchair into the trunk. He was really grateful to have crossed paths with Tyrese; he had been a real life saver.

"Hey, are you meeting your hot therapist today?" Ty asked as he sat back behind the wheel.

Steve had to laugh at that, "No; she doesn't want to see me until Monday. She said I should rest," Steve said it with a bit of disdain.

"Maybe she wants you to rest up for a 'special' session," Ty told him with a wink.

"Yeah, right." There had been nothing 'special' happening in the last 12 weeks, ever since he had been injured. No sex on his own and certainly not with anyone else. Okay, granted the first five weeks he had no desire for anything anyway. But lately… he was just a guy after all. But nothing was working as it should be.

His neurologist said not to worry, there was nothing wrong. _Yeah, well, but there was nothing right either._ Steve thought frustrated. It was maybe a good thing that there was no girl waiting for him at the moment. He wouldn't want to burden a girlfriend with 'this'.

"So, you want to go straight home then?" Ty pulled him out of his dark thoughts with his question.

"Yeah," Steve answered.

"Should I pick you up in the morning?"

"No, I'm not allowed to work until Monday."

"Oh, they ganged up on you, huh?" his friend asked with laughter in his voice.

"It's a conspiracy, I'm telling you," Steve told him with a grin.

"Listen, if you feel up to it, would you like to come over on Friday? My wife's cooking is legendary. You will love her Chicken Teriyaki."

"Uh, I don't know, Ty."

"Hey, if you are worried about…" Ty was waving around with his hand, "you know… it's no problem. You can get around in a wheelchair in my house. I'll pick you up at six, okay? My wife would really like to meet you. Please say yes. That would get me extra points tonight, if you know what I mean?"

Steve couldn't help but laugh at that, and besides if he couldn't get anything to work, maybe he could at least help his friend enjoy some nice hours. "Okay, fine. Friday at six," Steve finally agreed. That would be his first social outing since he had arrived in Washington.

"Great. You will not regret this." Tyrese beamed at him.

"I already do," Steve told him, but they both knew he was not serious.

A few minutes later they arrived in front of Steve's apartment building, and Ty got out to get the wheelchair out of the trunk. Steve scooted to the edge of the seat and waited for Ty to come around with it.

This time he didn't even ask; everyone could see that Steve was hurting and not able to get out of the car on his own. Ty had Steve seated and ready to go in no time. "Can I leave you alone, or should I get you upstairs?"

"No, it's fine, Ty. Thank you. I can manage."

"You sure? It's no problem…"

"I know, and thank you, but really the apartment is no problem," Steve assured Ty. And he really didn't need any help in his temporary home; it was perfectly fitted for him.

"Okay. Call me if you need anything."

"I will," Steve told him and paid for the fare. He watched Ty get back into his cab and drive off.

Steve had never met anyone like Tyrese. He was not between jobs driving the cab; he was not someone who couldn't get another job; he simply drove the cab because he loved it. He had never wanted to do anything else. He had been a cabby for over thirty years now. Had his own small fleet, well, three cars, and he was happy with his life. He said it was his calling. Well, whatever makes one happy.

Steve pressed the button for the elevator, and the door opened almost instantly. It took him only a minute to reach his apartment on the third floor. He opened the door and was glad to be finally home, even though he had left just six hours ago. But he was exhausted. His head hurt, his back hurt, and his legs were trembling. His vision was blurry again, and it was time to lie down before he passed out. Which was a possibility, and it wouldn't be the first time.

He wheeled over to the bathroom to take care of some urgent needs. It took him a lot longer to be done with everything. He should probably be more thankful that he at least had control over those body functions. He came out of the bathroom and looked over to his walker, which he should use in his home. But not today. He was sure that he wouldn't even be able to stand, much less walk.

He wheeled to his bedroom and looked at his assortment of pill bottles. He was down to one he had to take on a schedule; it helped with the vertigo he was still experiencing. Then, there was his bottle with sleeping pills, which he called his knock out pills. They knocked him out in a matter of minutes for at least nine hours. But he always woke up drenched in sweat, and he remembered having terrible dreams. So, he hated taking them. But some nights he just had to. And then there was the bottle with his prescription painkillers.

They were the only ones that helped with the pain from the irritated nerves. On some days, the pain got so bad that he wanted to scream. Today was such a day. He had already taken one pill not even three hours ago. He knew if he took another one now, he would not get out of bed again until morning. And more than one had the same effect as the sleeping pills. They would knock him out, but they would also give him nightmares.

So his choice was really simple, suffer through the pain or suffer the nightmares. Steve thought today he was more in the mood for the nightmares.

He brought his wheelchair next to his bed, and with some effort managed to sit on the edge of it. He took another pill and lay back down and waited for sleep to claim him. Steve didn't need to wait long; his exhausted body had nothing left to fight the drug. His last thought was about his hope not to dream in such vivid colors again like two nights before.

H50 – H50 – H50

* * *

**_List of Badges and Ribbons received by Steve._**

Badges:

Top:

o **Special Warfare Insignia (SEAL Trident)** - The Special Warfare insignia (aka the "SEAL Trident" or the "Budweiser Badge"), is awarded to personnel who completed BUD/S training and qualification, and have been designated as Navy SEALs and assigned to Navy SEAL Teams or Special Delivery Vehicle (SDV) Teams

Bottom:

o **Naval Parachutist -** The Parachutists insignia, also known as "jump wings", is awarded to personnel for training in airborne school. The basic insignia is issued for completion of basic parachutist training. The Naval Parachutist insignia is issued after 10 qualifying jumps.

Ribbons (in order of precedence):

o **Silver Star** - "Gallantry in action against an enemy of the United States"

o **Bronze Star** - "Heroic or meritorious achievement or service"

o **Purple Heart** (1 Star) - "Being wounded or killed in any action against an enemy of the United States or as a result of an act of any such enemy or opposing armed forces"

o **Joint Service Commendation** - "distinguishing oneself by heroism, meritorious achievement or meritorious service."

o **Navy/Marine Corps Commendation **(2 Stars) - "distinguishing oneself by heroism, meritorious achievement or meritorious service."

o **Joint Service Achievement** (1 oak leaf) - "Meritorious service or achievement in either combat or noncombat based on sustained performance or specific achievement of a superlative nature but which does not warrant a Commendation Medal or higher."

o **Navy/Marine Corps Achievement** - Meritorious service or achievement in either combat or noncombat based on sustained performance or specific achievement of a superlative nature but which does not warrant a Commendation Medal or higher."

o **Combat Action Ribbon **(1 Star) - Actively engaged in ground combat with the enemy

o **Navy Presidential Unit Citation** - "Gallantry, determination, and esprit de corps in accomplishing its mission under extremely difficult and hazardous conditions"

o **Joint Meritorious Unit Award** - Awarded to joint units or units tasked to perform a joint mission

o **Navy Unit Commendation** - Unit heroism lesser than that required of a Presidential Unit Citation or non-combat service which was outstanding when compared to other units or organizations performing similar service.

o **Fleet Marine Force Ribbon** - The award signified the acquisition of specific professional skills, knowledge and military experience that resulted in qualifications above those normally required of Navy personnel serving with the Marine Corps operating forces.

o **National Defense Service Medal** - Military service during periods of national emergency

o **Armed Forces Expeditionary Medal **(3 Stars) - Awarded to members of the United States Armed Forces who, after July 1, 1958, have participated in a United States military operation and encountered foreign armed opposition, or were in danger of hostile action by foreign Armed Forces

o **Afghanistan Campaign Medal** - It is awarded to any member of the U.S. military who has performed duty within the borders of Afghanistan (or its airspace) for a period of thirty consecutive days or sixty non-consecutive days

o **Iraq Campaign Medal **- It is awarded to any member of the U.S. military who has performed duty within the borders of Iraq (or its territorial waters) for a period of thirty consecutive days or sixty non-consecutive days

o **Global War on Terrorism Expeditionary** - overseas direct service to the Global War on Terrorism

o **Global War on Terrorism Service** - Direct support in service to the Global War on Terrorism

o **Humanitarian Service** - Established to honor personnel of the Armed Forces of the United States who distinguished themselves by meritorious direct participation (hands on) in a significant military act or operation of a humanitarian nature, or have rendered a service to mankind.

o **Navy Sea Service Deployment **(4 Stars) - recognizes those service members who have performed military duty while stationed on a vessel at sea.

o **Navy Expert Rifleman** Medal – Awarded for qualifying as an expert marksman on M16 rifle

o **Navy Expert Pistol Medal** – Awarded for qualifying as an expert marksman on 9mm M9 pistol.

*Stars/Oak Leafs Awards are for subsequent awards of the same medal.

All this information was given during season 1. I'm sorry, but I don't know who to credit for this. The information floated around on official sites and fan sites. No idea where it first came from. If anyone knows, I will gladly give credit.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Wow, you really blow my mind every time I post a new story. Thank you all SO much for your kind words.**_

_**I hope I will be able to live up to your expectations.**_

_**Here is the next chapter. Hope you will enjoy it.**_

* * *

**Purple Heart – Chapter 02**

_**Northern Iraq – March 2006**_

_Steve and his team were walking down another dirt road, one of hundreds they had walked down in the last two weeks. Their Intel said they should encounter one of the main insurgent groups in this area. But so far they had only seen small, empty villages; a few left behind old people and nothing but destroyed dwellings. And they encountered dust, more dust, and then even more of the same. They were covered in it from head to toe. It got everywhere. And every time the wind picked up they would even breathe the dust._

_The dust was more intrusive than at home, and it even tasted different. This dust tasted of despair, destitution and death. And after two weeks of nothing but walking along those deserted dirt roads, seeing nothing but gray wherever they looked, it was getting to them. It didn't matter how highly trained one was… this kind of environment was getting to everyone._

_Sure, they were doing their job, and Steve was certain they all would perform their duty at the highest level. But he was thinking about giving all of his men a little break. Just to see a different color in front of their eyes would help. He knew that just 30 miles north of their position was a larger camp manned by the Army. He had been there before and planned to get his men a night in a bed… and a shower. Steve had to laugh at what kind of small things could make one happy. Not sleeping on the hard rocks and having a few minutes under a spray of warm water. What a luxury for teams like his, who were often out on their own for a long time without ever seeing a camp. When they had tracked down their target they were extracted by helicopter and relocated._

_But they very seldom got to spend any length of time in a well-equipped base camp. _

_"Yo, LT! What has you in such a good mood?" his Chief came up to him and asked after hearing Steve's chuckle._

_"What do you think of a nice shower and even a bed tonight?" Steve looked at his Chief Petty Officer, or short 'Chief'._

_"Seriously?"_

_"Yeah. I think we all deserve to get out of this dust for at least a few hours. I mean we were supposed to have a few days off a week ago. And we're still stuck on these damn dirt roads."_

_His men had not been thrilled when he had to tell them last week that their leave, the first after six months, had been canceled. Steve thought they deserved a little break; it would recharge them._

_"LT, that would be really great. You think I could get a line home?" _

_"Last time I was there, they had a really great com-center. If you're lucky…"_

_Steve looked at the happy face of his second in command and hoped he would be able to call home. If he was really lucky, he might even get a video call to his very pregnant wife. Steve had tried to get him emergency leave when his wife was rushed to the hospital two weeks ago with early contractions. But that was not going to happen. They wouldn't even let him leave for the birth of his first child, due in four weeks. Steve's CO promised to look into it and get back to him, but he wasn't holding his breath. The situation in Iraq was very tense at the moment, and leave was pretty much canceled all around. You practically had to be as good as dead to get any leave. Something like a wife in the hospital was not considered a personal emergency right now._

"_You think you can pull it off?"_

"_I'll get on the horn after we canvass the next target," Steve told his buddy._

_The target Steve was talking about lay just ahead of them. It was another one of the deserted very small villages. Consisting only of very few houses; one could hardly even call it a village. This one, however, had a slightly bigger, two-story house in the middle of 'town' with about ten smaller houses scattered around it. None of the houses had any windows or doors left. They had encountered hundreds of these deserted 'assortment' of houses on their way through Iraq._

_The group spread out, like they had done every time they were to check a possible base for the insurgent group they were after. They moved in closer in the trained formation that proved to be the most successful and safest way to clear the area. _

_Steve was about fifteen feet from the house standing idly in the middle of town when all hell broke loose. Steve never even saw it coming. There were no warning signs whatsoever. No noises, no movement, no nothing._

_An incredible force suddenly slammed into him and threw him almost fifty feet though the air. Smashed him into a wall and buried him under half a ton of rubble._

_H50 – H50 – H50_

_Steve blinked his eyes open, or at least tried to. He wasn't sure they were open; he couldn't see anything but gray dust. There was a huge weight on his chest, and he was having trouble breathing, the air he managed to get into his lungs felt like sandpaper grinding along his trachea. His breathing would have ended in a coughing fit if he'd had the energy to do so. _

_He tried to listen to any movement around him, or at least to see where he was, but he didn't even manage to lift his head. There was an incredible pain in the back of his head, but after a moment, he realized that the pain was not just in the back, but even worse in the front and left side. His head felt like it was being crushed. Like a belt was around it, and someone was pulling it tighter every second._

_His ears were ringing, and he couldn't hear anything but this high-pitched ringing tone. It was driving him up the wall. He couldn't see; he couldn't hear, and he couldn't move. Steve had tried to move his leg, but the pain that caused in his back made him scream. At least he thought he screamed; he was not sure. He was not sure of anything, not even which way was up and which was down. The earth seemed to move around him, or maybe he was moving. The constant shifting made him incredibly nauseous._

_Steve tried to remember what had happened, but it seemed that the longer he lay there, the less he could remember. It felt like his memory was slowly slipping out of his head._

_He became aware that the gray was becoming darker and that his breathing was labored. It was the last coherent thought he had, the pain in his head was suddenly all consuming. His vision was almost black by now, with a tiny white light in the middle. Is this how it ends? Is there really a light to go to? Steve had held many men in his arms as they died, and he always was amazed that most of them smiled right before they drew their dying breath. He wondered for a second if he was smiling right now. _

_And just as suddenly the tiny light was blinding, and hurting so incredibly bad. This time he was sure that he screamed. Then there was a terrible jostling and then… nothing._

_"Get him out, get him out… LT! STEVE!" Chief Myers pulled with all his might to get his CO out of the rubble. They had to hurry; the unstable pile of debris threatened to collapse any second. If that happened, his lieutenant would be crushed, and they would only be able to dig his body out._

_They couldn't believe it when they found a strong pulse when they had dug out his arm. Getting him completely out of the mountain of rubble he was buried under was another thing. One last tug and finally, they had him out, just when there was a crunching noise and the small 'cave' Steve had lain in, gave in._

_Myers threw himself protectively over Steve's prone form in the hope to protect him from any more hits. Luckily, nothing but another huge cloud of dust descended on them. _

_Four men grabbed Steve as best they could and carried him away from the still unstable rubble and behind cover, in case the insurgents who planted the bomb were still nearby to finish the job._

_The team's medic got to work right away. Put a C-Collar on, cleared Steve's airways and after realizing what kind of trouble he was having breathing, inserted a tube with an attached ambu bag. The youngest of their group started squeezing the bag, successfully helping Steve get some air into his lungs._

_The medic cursed when he saw the blood coming out of both of Steve's ears. That could mean a lot of things, and none of them were good. But his worst suspicion was confirmed when he lifted the left eyelid. A blown pupil greeted him, a clear sign of a serious head injury with possible bleeding inside the skull. And from one second to the other, it was clear that Steve's injuries were life threatening, even though he didn't even look injured. Covered in dust, yes, a few spots of blood on his collar from the ears, but that was it. No broken bones, no blood gushing wounds._

_But still, he was in danger of dying on this god-forsaken dust road if he didn't get medical help as soon as possible. _

_They all breathed a sigh of relief when they heard the unmistakable sound of a nearing helicopter. Steve's ride had arrived._

H50 – H50 – H50

Steve jerked awake with a gasp. The room was spinning, and he lay back down with a groan. Coming up into a sitting position like that was a really dumb idea. It always gave him a severe case of vertigo. He still had trouble changing positions without getting severely dizzy, but doing it fast would cause him to fall flat on his face for sure.

And not even to mention what it did to the pain in his head. On most days, he only had a very mild constant headache, which increased gradually while he was reading or working until it suddenly changed into intense pain from one second to the other. That was usually when he had to stop whatever he was doing and lie down. But moving from horizontal to vertical too fast, the pain shooting through his skull was still overwhelming.

The dream about getting injured always woke him up in this sudden fashion. And always at the point where he blacked out in the dream. Steve knew going back to sleep would cause him to continue dreaming, and that part of the memory was starting to become a nightmare. Living through it almost every night was slowly driving him nuts. He wished for some uninterrupted sleep, just once in a while. But that had not been happening these last few weeks.

Steve threw the covers to the side and looked down at his body in disappointment. He still hoped to wake up to some kind of reaction from that part of his anatomy, but so far it had never happened since he had been injured. _Maybe it's a good thing that you're not aroused by those kinds of dreams._ Steve told himself with a snort. Actually at this point he wouldn't care much what his body would react to as long as _something_ happened.

He scooted over to the edge of the bed and slowly sat up. It was way too early to start the day, but his bladder didn't care what time of night it was. If he woke up at night, he had to go, no matter how many hours ago he went. He truly hoped that would also get better with time. He wouldn't mind so much if he just were able to get up, do his business and go back to bed. But that was not how his getting up to use the bathroom was going at the moment.

Steve had nothing but respect for all the people who managed to live like this without the hope of getting past it. He 'knew' that he would get back to normal with time and hard work. But knowing that this state or even worse would be how it would be for the rest of one's life? Managing that and still lead a productive and happy life was an achievement one should not underestimate.

And Steve was well aware that he was a lucky one. He _could_ move his legs. He could stand on them; he could use his muscles to help them move. People with 'real' paralysis don't have that luxury. Their lower, or in many cases even their upper body, was dead. And if it was really bad, they were trapped in a useless body but still felt pain from the damaged nerves. So he should really count his blessings and be happy to have control over most of his body.

He knew that, and he had met a few people in therapy who were worse off than he was. But right now, sitting on the edge of the bed, feeling the pain in his legs and back, needing to pee urgently, and not having the energy to get up and do so, he didn't feel very grateful… or lucky.

He pulled his wheelchair over to the side of his bed and put the brakes on. The first time he got out of bed on his own he forgot this important step, and landed in a heap on the floor, with the wheelchair across the room. After that embarrassing experience, he never forgot to use the brakes when he was not moving around in it.

Steve used his left leg to push himself into an almost standing position and settled back down into his wheelchair. A move he had down pat by now. It would be a lot easier if he could use his right leg, but it still refused to obey to his commands. The lack of movement of his stubborn right leg was why he was still so dependent on the wheelchair. On good days the right one was stable enough for him to stand for a few short minutes, but it just wouldn't move. His therapist recommended using a brace for it, but he refused. Steve thought if he did that he would give in to his handicap, and he was not willing to do that. Not yet.

He wheeled to his bathroom, which was almost the most spacious room in the apartment, which made him laugh at first. But he realized very fast that the room he had to maneuver came in handy. Especially for people like him, without much experience. Now he could move his wheelchair practically on the spot and didn't need any extra room, but in the beginning that was very different.

His bathroom was equipped with bars everywhere, but Steve could still only stand with holding on to bars with both hands, but not unaided. So he still had to do his business while sitting down, which he hated. Steve didn't bother to close the door; he seldom did since he was in the wheelchair. Besides he was alone, so why bother?

He still felt a little fuzzy from the painkillers; they hadn't run their course yet, and he couldn't wait to get back to bed. It was time to get moving a bit faster. Hurrying up would be a good idea if he wanted to make it in time. It wouldn't be the first time that he didn't. Thankfully, it only happened a few times at home, and never in public. But even that was bad enough. His neurologist told him that it was perfectly normal, and that he shouldn't worry about it. _Yeah, right, he was not the one sitting in wet pants._

After being done with his business and freshened up, he wheeled out to his open kitchen, getting a bottle of water. Getting back into his bed only took a couple of minutes. Lying back down he could feel how his little trip to use the facilities had exhausted him. His back was hurting a little more, and his right leg was trembling again. The involuntary movement caused a deep pain from his toes all the way up to his groin. He couldn't even move his leg to try to ease the deep ache.

He knew of course as soon as he were able to get his leg to move, the pain would lessen considerably. His left leg still hurt on occasion, but moving it helped a lot, and he was hoping it would be the same with his damn stubborn right leg.

Steve lay back and tried to relax, which was not easy with the almost jerking leg. It felt like someone was using electricity to stimulate the muscles. His doctor explained that it was caused by misfiring of his nerves, controlled by bursts his brain sent out. _Whatever._

Sometimes he wished his brain would just shut up, but he was not even able not to think. His brain had been in total overdrive ever since he woke up a week after the explosion. And because of that, his body was in constant, mostly painful movement. His brain kept sending out signals to the muscles, and he really wished it wouldn't.

He only had to learn to control his brain again, and everything else would follow. Right. As if that would be so easy. Frustrated, Steve turned onto his stomach and closed his eyes. He was so damn tired, but dreaded sleep a little. He knew as soon as he was deep under his dream would continue.

And he was right; it did.

H50 – H50 – H50


	3. Chapter 3

_**My thanks to all the people I couldn't reach with a pm. I greatly appreciate every review. And also thanks to everyone who had something to say via private message. Thanks for taking the time to share your thoughts with me.**_

* * *

**Purple Heart – Chapter 03 **

_**Northern Iraq – March 2006**_

Major Jensen looked out to the landing site where a helicopter should land any minute now. They would bring in a casualty from a massive bomb explosion. That was all the information they received.

"Massive bomb explosion. That can mean anything from missing limbs to multiple blast trauma," he said to his colleague Captain Tucker.

"Did they say how many?" Tucker asked his CO.

"Just one. But we didn't get any other information than that. The chopper's radio went out."

"I didn't hear about any attacks in the last hour," Tucker said. Normally, they heard about such things first. It was one of the perks of being on the second biggest base in Iraq. They even had a very decent hospital at Al Asad Airbase. Tucker was glad he was not stationed at a field hospital. The conditions there were a lot worse than here.

Both doctors looked up when they heard the helicopter approaching. Two airmen got ready to take the injured man over from the air-crew. It was routine for them; they did that dozens of times a day. So, when the helicopter touched down they were already on the run to take over their charge.

It was not a good sign that the injured soldier was intubated and obviously unconscious.

Steve was transferred from the helicopter onto the waiting gurney in a matter of moments, and they hurried to get him into the trauma room and out of the heat and whirling dust.

"What do we have?" Major Tucker asked the corpsman as he took his first cursory look at his new patient.

"Lieutenant McGarrett; US Navy; 29; was fifteen feet from an explosion; according to his men, he was thrown 50 feet into a brick wall; they dug him out of rubble; primary injuries: blast injury to both ears; inability to breathe; probable pulmonary contusion from the shock-wave; no bleeding from the gastrointestinal tract; no secondary injuries; tertiary injuries from hitting the wall; massive bruising lower back; TBI with probable skull fracture," the corpsman rattled off the injuries they had encountered so far. Everyone in the room knew that blast injuries often only manifest after time had passed. All air-filled organs were in extreme danger due to the change in pressure.

That Steve was not bleeding from the gastrointestinal tract didn't mean anything. That could change any minute. Also any TBI would certainly get worse with time, as would any injuries to the middle or inner ear. Blast injuries were extremely dangerous and tricky.

"Alright, get him completely out of his gear. I want a full scan; also blood, urine… the works, and call Sweeney, I want him to check his ears. Come on people, let's save this guy."

H50 – H50 – H50

An hour later it was clear that their newest patient was the luckiest bastard on planet earth. The blast he had been subjected to should have had killed him, instead he was still very much alive and just regaining consciousness.

Steve felt like he had been hit by a bus. _Make that a house. _Steve would have snorted at his stupid joke, but he couldn't because there was something blocking his throat. It made him gag a little, which brought on a chain of events.

Someone was touching him, and he could feel people milling around him. He got the feeling that he was not supposed to be awake. Why that was he was not sure. Steve tried to open his eyes, but they wouldn't even flutter. That scared him a little, and it showed in his heart rate; it went up to over a hundred beats per minute. His BP went up as well, and that brought even more people to the scene.

He felt something injected into his arm, something cold. But again, he couldn't look at who was giving him the injection. He couldn't even move his head. It took Steve a minute to figure out that his neck was stabilized with a c-collar that was preventing him from moving.

He had a myriad of pictures in his head and a terrible ringing in his ears, but oddly enough no other sounds reached him. No beeping of any machinery that was surely attached to him, or any voices. It was a bit unnerving. Combined with not seeing anything it was freaking him out.

Steve wished he could open his eyes, but no matter how hard he tried he was just not able to do it. Come to think of it, he was not able to move anything. _Oh God!_ Realization hit Steve hard; and his heart beat and BP shot up again, regardless of the medication. He suddenly remembered the blast and the incredible pain in his back and head. Steve was now in a full-blown panic, but without body-movement. He was screaming inside his head, and struggling with all his might, but still not even his fingers moved.

He could feel another medication entering his system and against his will, he calmed down. His situation suddenly was not of interest to him anymore. He gave in to the strong lethargy that took hold and if his eyes had been open one would have seen them roll back into his head. Steve was out like a light.

H50 – H50 – H50

"Is he prepped for surgery?" Captain Tucker asked the orderly currently busy with Steve's IV.

"Yes, Sir. He is ready to go."

"Good." Tucker took his patient's file and made a few notes in it. The otologist had decided that the damage to Steve's left ear needed to be repaired as soon as possible. Or they wouldn't be able to fly him out, first to Germany and later back home. Steve had suffered a skull fracture right behind his ear, thankfully without a depression, but the excessive force to that region of his head did a lot of damage to his inner and middle ear. His right ear had fared a lot better though. On that side, the ruptured eardrum was the most serious injury, whereas the same injury was the least of their concerns on the left side.

They had to very carefully monitor the pressure in Steve's head. Due to the shock-wave that hit him and then the impact into the wall, Steve had also suffered a severe concussion and a small intra-cranial bleed. As it stood at the moment it didn't look like he would need surgery, but they had to keep a close eye on the development.

The damage to the lungs was minimal and Steve was lucky; so far he hadn't developed any complications from the gastrointestinal tract. And he had suffered no injuries to his liver or bladder. Steve had a small splenic hemorrhage, but they were confident that he didn't need surgery. The impact on his back had caused a contusion to his right kidney, but again, it was mild and only needed observation. All in all, Steve was a very lucky guy. His body armor had saved him from fatal trauma.

The most serious injuries were to his head and might take a few months to heal. Barring any complication that was.

And they found out that there would be complications as soon as Steve woke up. Which didn't happen fully for over a week. By then he had left Iraq and was already in Washington.

H50 – H50 – H50

_**Walter Reed National Military Medical Center, ICU, nine days after the explosion in Iraq**_

Steve became aware that he was lying in a bed, and that something was still stuck in his throat. Thankfully he was at least not flat on his back anymore, but in a slightly raised position. He could make out strange noises that sounded like voices, but he couldn't understand what they were saying. It was very muffled, like they were talking through a gag. He tried to open his eyes, but that proved to be difficult. Finally, he managed to open them to small slits and was assaulted by severe pain from the light that was like a laser right into his brain.

He was sure that he had groaned. He felt a hand on his chest, obviously to calm him. It worked somewhat; at least it grounded him a little. Steve prepared himself and slowly opened his eyes again. This time the pain didn't assault him like before, but the throbbing in his head increased with every second he kept his eyes open.

In front of him stood a doctor, at least his name-tag said so, and what Steve assumed was a nurse. He saw that they were talking, but he still couldn't understand them. It worried him that he was not able to hear them; it felt more like white noise. Nothing like the terrible high pitched ringing from before, but still nothing one could call meaningful noises like words.

But the worst was that they wavered in and out of focus. Steve felt incredible dizzy. A dizziness like he never had experienced before. The room was spinning around him, and everything seemed to be in motion. It was a very disturbing and nauseating feeling.

The doctor suddenly held a legal pad in front of Steve. But he couldn't make out what it was saying. It was all blurry. His confusion must have shown on his face, because the doc took the pad and wrote something new on it. This time in big bold letters; they were easier to make out.

_KEEP CALM_

_WE WILL_

He again took the pad, turned to a new page and wrote on it.

_TAKE OUT_

_THE TUBE_

Steve nodded.

_COUGH WHEN_

_YOU FEEL A PULL_

Steve nodded again to show that he understood.

It took another minute until the tube finally came out. Steve coughed at what he hoped was the appropriate time. It still made him gag when the tube scratched along his trachea when it came out. The coughing made his headache a lot worse and Steve couldn't but groan at the increased pain. He closed his eyes and hoped the pain would lessen soon.

Thankfully, it did, helped along by the medication that had been injected into his IV. Steve realized that he must have dozed off for a few minutes. When he opened his eyes again the doctor was gone, and only the nurse was still there; smiling at him.

"Hi there," at least that is what Steve read from her lips and what he thought he heard.

"Hi," Steve croaked out. His throat hurt, and made speaking painful.

"Don't talk. Your… bruised… accident… tube… okay?" Steve was not sure what she just said, and shook his head.

"Be right back," that was easy to understand.

Steve watched her leave and took a look around the room. It was not really a room, more like a cubicle in a bigger room. He could make out many beds on this station, which he figured was an intensive care unit. He looked to the left of him and could see a monitor that was obviously recording his vitals. There also was a stand with three bags of liquids and the lines went through some sort of electric device. He knew it was a pump that regulated the delivery of whatever was in those bags.

He looked at his arms, but they were IV-free, so that meant he must have a central line by his collar bone. And one look under the blanket confirmed his suspicion of another tube he didn't like. He was just glad he didn't have a feeding tube; they probably took it out earlier. That was as far as he came with his observations until his nurse returned. She again had a smile on her face and a legal pad in her hand.

She held up the first one that someone had obviously written in advance.

_YOU ARE IN D.C. – WALTER REED_

_YOUR TEAM IS OKAY – NO INJURIES_

_YOU WILL BE FINE_

She was actually pretty good, those were his most pressing questions.

_PLEASE TRY NOT TO TALK _

_YOUR VOCAL CORDS WERE_

_SLIGHTLY INJURED_

Well, that would explain the discomfort he felt in his throat. "What day?" Steve mouthed without actually speaking the words.

HERE 4 DAYS

BUT YOU WERE INJURED 9 DAYS AGO

And just as always, Steve's dream ended there. Every time he realized that he had been in the hospital for such a long time already, he woke up.

Steve woke to sunshine filtering into his bedroom. It was a nice contrast to his gloomy dream. It was not much fun to go through the explosion again and again, or to learn what his injuries were. And that he barely came out of it alive. Waking up in D.C. he had to learn that he had suffered multiple head trauma, which resulted in loss of hearing in both ears. And combined with the trauma to his lower back, also loss of function of his lower extremities. He could feel his legs, but he couldn't move them. Which was extremely frustrating, and painful.

Due to the injury to his inner ear, he had lost his sense of balance, which slowed his recovery immensely. He still suffered cases of severe vertigo from time to time. The medication he took helped most days, but sometimes it didn't and his equilibrium was shot to hell.

A bit over two weeks after waking up, he was switched to outpatient status. It was not necessary to spend his days in bed or even in the hospital any longer. He had daily therapy sessions in various departments, but for that he didn't need to stay and occupy a hospital bed.

Three weeks after living as an outpatient his request of doing at least a few hours of desk duty a day was granted and allowed by his doctor. Steve would start to go mad if he couldn't at least be a little productive. And having therapy only occupied him for so long.

Forty-four days after being blasted into a wall and suffering life-threatening injuries, he went back to work. Behind a desk and only for a few hours a day, but he was starting to get his life back. One painstakingly slow step at a time.

H50 – H50 – H50

* * *

**Thank you all for reading. I hope you are still enjoying this story. The next chapter will be up soon.**


	4. Chapter 4

_**Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing. Also for all your alerts. **_

_**I hope everyone had a great weekend and enjoyed Easter or other holidays you might celebrate this time of year.**_

_**Here is chapter 4 for your enjoyment. Hope you like it.**_

_**Again my special 'thank you' goes to Cokie316 and Sherry57, who are both doing a terrific job in their field of expertise. You guys ROCK!**_

* * *

**Purple Heart – Chapter 04**

Steve slowly wheeled down the ramp to the platform of his line back to Bethesda. He was getting tired after a day of sightseeing and was looking forward to getting home. But so far his day had been great, and he was glad that he had decided this morning to get out and explore the city on his own.

He had a great lunch and met a nice young lady, whose card he now had in his back pocket. It had been nice chatting with her, but he was not sure he would call her. He didn't think he had made a good first impression on her. So he was very surprised when she had handed him her card and told him to call her if he wanted to have lunch again.

He had been a little startled when she had asked him if he would mind her sitting down at his table. He hadn't minded at all. She seemed nice and it beat eating alone. It turned out that she was a lieutenant junior grade in the Navy, currently working at the Pentagon. He still wondered why she had sought out his company.

In his eyes he didn't look like a winner right now. Dressed in faded jeans, tee shirt with a slightly wrinkled shirt over it, and sitting in a wheelchair, he was not someone who he thought a woman would want to talk to. But, for whatever reason, it seemed that she had enjoyed his company.

Steve scanned the platform, which was pretty much deserted after the metro left just a couple of minutes ago. Rush hour was over, so the next would be in about twenty minutes.

At the far end he saw a young woman waiting with a small boy. A few feet from them were two young men standing and discussing something rather loudly, even though Steve couldn't understand what they were talking about. The reverberation on the platform made it impossible for him to understand them. He had trouble listening to more than one person at once when they were close by, but understanding from far away was not in his ability. His hearing should come completely back at some point, but so far only his right ear worked at a hundred percent. The one on the more damaged side of his head left a lot to be desired.

Steve didn't need to understand what they were saying to know that trouble was on the horizon. And the young woman had also recognized that. She slowly stepped farther away from the arguing young men. That is when they made their move. And when Steve doubled his effort to get closer.

It all happened in a matter of seconds. The taller of the men pushed the scared woman against the wall as the smaller one pulled a knife out of his pocket. That was the one Steve tackled. He had wheeled close to them, and they had looked at him but obviously decided he didn't pose any threat. Big mistake.

Later, Steve couldn't really remember how he did it, but he used the momentum of the moving wheelchair to catapult himself into the attacker. He put his left foot down and pushed himself into the midsection of the smaller guy. He wrangled the arm with the knife behind his back with an accompanying popping sound as he dislocated the attacker's elbow.

The knife went flying right out of the useless hand of the punk who was writhing on the ground in agony, spewing profanities at Steve and his mother while doing so.

Unfortunately, now Steve was at a huge disadvantage as he was also lying on the ground. And there was no way that he would get to his feet on his own. But all three men had underestimated the frightened young mother.

She let go of her son and struck her outstretched hand into her attacker's face, catching him in the eye, and making him howl in pain. She used that moment of distraction to ram her knee into his groin, effectively causing him to crumble before her. Steve did the rest and knocked him out cold with a well placed strike to his temple.

The injured, but unfortunately still conscious guy, kicked out wildly and caught Steve in the head. It was an uncoordinated lucky kick, but it sent Steve into a world of hurt. His head exploded in pain, and he fell back panting and trying to fight against the graying mass that was threatening to swallow him.

Steve curled in on himself, trying to fight the vertigo that had been caused by all his sudden movements. The pain caused from the kick to his head, was not helping his efforts. He could hear a woman speaking to him, but his bad ear was turned to her, so he couldn't make out what she was saying. Or maybe it was because the banging sound in his head tuned out any other sound. He more felt than saw that more people had come to their aid.

Someone put a folded jacket under his head, and another one, or maybe it was the same caring person, Steve couldn't be sure since his eyes were now closed and declined to open again, was gently rubbing up and down his arm. He thought for a moment what a ridiculous sight he must present at the moment, but the contact grounded him and helped him to stay conscious. So, Steve was grateful for it.

The clicking of handcuffs brought him out of his state. Steve finally was able to open his eyes and lift his head, even though he was still severely dizzy. With the help of the kind stranger he was able to sit up, and two more helped him sit back in his wheelchair after he assured them that he was fine now.

"Sir, I'm Officer Ash. Do we need to call an ambulance for you? Are you hurt?" A middle aged police officer asked him.

"No. No, I'm good. Thank you." Steve tried to look convincing. He was not worse off than before the fight. The pain in his head had subsided to bearable levels and he was sure that the vertigo would leave him in a few minutes if he sat still.

"You will get a bruise where he kicked you. Maybe you should get your head checked out, you were unconscious," the officer suggested. He was not giving up so easily.

"I feel fine now. Really, I'm good."

Officer Ash backed off a little, but Steve could feel his eyes on him the whole time it took to take his preliminary statement and while he talked to the woman he saved. Or helped save. After about half an hour, Steve took the offer to be taken home and Ash was the one doing the honors. Steve didn't fight him when he helped him sit in the police cruiser. He didn't think he would have had the energy to help himself.

"Listen, I would like to thank you for what you did. Taking on those two guys while sitting in a wheelchair… that took courage. You probably saved that woman and her boy."

"I did what anyone would have done." Steve didn't like to be praised; he thought he didn't deserve it. Besides he had needed the help of the 'victim' to come out a winner.

That statement brought him a snort from the seasoned police officer. "Are you kidding me? Even perfectly capable and healthy men look the other way. But I have the suspicion you are not some ordinary lieutenant normally sitting behind a desk?"

Steve only smiled at that question.

"What do you do when you are not on obvious sick leave?"

"Special warfare."

"You're a SEAL?"

"Going back to that hopefully soon," Steve was sure that it would take a few more months for him to be back on his feet. But he would not for one second believe that his doctor was right with his prognosis that his chances were only fifty/fifty at best to pass the fitness readiness test he had to go through if he wanted to go back to being a SEAL.

"I wish you luck and hope you will make it," Officer Ash sincerely told Steve.

"Thank you."

They made it back to Steve's apartment building and again Steve didn't protest Ash when he helped him out of the car. Steve had learned in the last few weeks that it was okay to accept help when necessary. Not accepting such help would mean wasting his limited energy on tasks he didn't need to improve. It was better to use his energy for things he needed to practice to get back to normal. Like walking, or moving his damn right leg. It was a waste of time spending five draining and painful minutes to get out of a car on his own when with a little help it only took him a moment. Even though on most days he _**was**_ able to do it on his own easily, but when he wasn't, he accepted help gladly.

Which was not a small accomplishment for Steve, one his therapist was very proud of. To which Steve of course, only snorted. Motto of the SEALs; adapt and overcome. And to overcome his handicap he had to adapt his behavior accordingly.

Steve waved good-bye to Officer Ash and wheeled the last short way into his building. He could already feel how his muscles had tensed up on him and he wished he could go swimming or at least float in the warm pool. But he was not allowed to go swimming on his own yet. Not even in the therapy pool at the rehab center. This annoyed him to no end. He was a damn SEAL, and for sure able not to drown in a freaking pool. But his therapist and his doctor wouldn't hear any of it.

He had to admit though the aided sessions with his therapist, just floating in the water and the gentle aided movements of his legs were pretty cool. Of course he would never admit how immensely he enjoyed the sensation of complete weightlessness. He was really looking forward to his next hour in the pool tomorrow morning.

Steve closed the door behind him and wheeled into his living room, glad to be back in the quiet of his sanctuary. The noises on the streets, and voices coming from all directions were not just giving him a headache; they were also messing with his equilibrium. And getting vertigo, even when sitting down was not much fun.

He emptied his pockets and put everything on the desk where he kept his laptop. His gaze fell on the card from his lunch 'date', and he couldn't help but smile. _Would it be too early to call her? Definitely, McGarrett!_ He shook his head and disappeared into the bathroom, still with a smile on his face.

H50 – H50 – H50

Steve was woken by a ringing that just wouldn't stop. After taking a shower and putting on comfortable sweat pants and a clean tee shirt, he had settled down on the couch with take-out he had ordered and promptly fell asleep.

"Hello" He was not sure if that came out as a coherent word or more like a grunt.

"Steve? Son, are you alright?"

"Joe?" That voice chased the last remnant of sleep away. "Yes, Sir, I'm fine. Where are you calling from, Sir?" Steve asked as he pushed himself into an upright sitting position.

"Why didn't you call me and tell me you have been injured, Son? Why do I have to learn about it from your CO when I tried to get in contact with you in Iraq?"

"I'm sorry; I thought dad would have called you. He had been informed," Steve told his former CO and training officer. Steve had talked to his dad a couple of times, and he thought he would have informed Joe, or anyone else who might be interested. Which wasn't that many people, if any at all.

"I haven't talk to your dad in a while."

"Oh?"

"It's a long story. Listen, Steve, I'm coming to D.C. on Saturday. Where are you staying, you still at the hospital?"

"Ah… no… what are you doing in Washington?" Steve was not sure if he wanted to see Joe, or anyone for that matter. He preferred not to be seen in his state by friends or family.

"Coming to see you. What did you think?"

That actually made Steve pretty speechless. Joe coming to Washington just to see him?

"Steve?"

"I'm sorry, Sir. Sure, my address." Steve gave him the required data and had to ask, "What did my CO tell you, Joe?"

"Not much; only that you had been severely injured and were at Bethesda for recovery. Steve, I have to go, I'll see you on Saturday. Is around noon okay for you?"

"Yes, that's fine."

"Good, then I'll see you the day after tomorrow."

They ended their call without any further ado and Steve stared at his phone, not quite believing that Joe would come to Washington.

Steve looked at his half eaten dinner, but was really not hungry enough to heat it up again and finish it. So he just pushed it aside on the table to deal with the rest of it in the morning. He was ready to go back to sleep, but not on the couch. His back would hate him tomorrow.

He made his way painfully off the couch and sat back into his wheelchair, very much to his annoyance. It was the second day in a row that he hadn't used his walker. It was bugging him that he was letting it slide, even though he was just too exhausted to stand. It was easy to fall into a routine without training his walking ability. Using the wheelchair was a blessing, but also a curse. It gave him freedom and independence, but it also took the need to train harder away from him. Why torture himself with walking to the bathroom when he could simply roll there?

That was his greatest fear, and why he didn't use a urinal at night for example. Giving in to the aids was kind of a defeat. Steve shook his head and promised himself to use the walker in the morning. He went to use the facilities and then went straight to bed, not even bothering changing into sleep attire. He was sure he would be able to go to sleep unaided tonight in a matter of minutes. The day and the excitement in the Metro station had taken a lot out of him.

Steve lay down and was again thinking about the lieutenant. He would ask Milo in the morning when the right time would be to call her without looking too eager. He wanted to see her again, but didn't want to call too soon, or worse too late. _Damn. Did she expect his call this evening? Should he have thanked her for the nice time? Man, he was out of the game way too long._ With that thought in mind he slipped into sleep. And the only thing his dreams were filled with this night was the nice lieutenant.

H50 – H50 – H50

* * *

**_Thanks again for reading. Let me know what you think._**


	5. Chapter 5

**Purple Heart – Chapter 05**

Steve woke up Friday morning to a nasty headache; but other than that he felt well rested. He knew that he hadn't had a single bad dream, and he had slept unaided for over ten hours. That hadn't happened for a very long time. The sightseeing yesterday, and probably mostly the fight in the Metro station had tired him out completely. To the brink of exhaustion really. But maybe that had been what he had needed.

Steve had never been one to just lag around all day, doing nothing. He was always doing _something_. And now not having enough energy for more than maybe four to six hours a day was driving him nuts.

Steve rolled over onto his left side, carefully dragging his uncooperative right leg with him. He slowly sat up on the edge of the bed and was pleasantly surprised not to be dizzy. That had been a rare occasion the last weeks. Seemed to him that this could turn out to be a really good day.

Steve stretched out his arm and pulled his walker towards the bed. Last night he swore that he would use it every day from now on, no lagging practicing any more. The walker had two wheels on the front, but to move it forward he had to lift the back a little. It was not for continuous walking, but only for one step at a time. But Steve wasn't able to do more than that anyway.

He used his left leg to get up from the bed and leaned heavily on the walker. Today he was at least able to lock his right knee so that it could bear his weight, more or less. Standing now on both legs, he could move the walker forward. Putting most of his weight again on his arms he lifted his left leg and moved a step, pulling his right one next to the left. It was a slow, painful and arduous way to move. But Steve knew, the more he trained the better able he would be to coordinate his legs.

Steve had almost full control back over the left part of his body, but the right one was not quite there yet. Aside from his completely uncooperative leg he still had some weakness in his right hand. Which was why he had trouble writing. Thankfully most of his work was in front of a computer anyway, and using a mouse was very good for his eye to hand coordination.

Due to his injury on the left side of his head, it was mostly the right side of his body that was affected. Or more affected.

It took him a lot longer to get ready to leave for his only therapy session he was allowed to attend today. Since it was not strenuous for him, he was welcome to participate in this activity. Steve couldn't quite believe it, but he actually sighed in relief when he finally sat down in his wheelchair. It was like his life was in slow motion, and as soon he sat down, the turbo was turned on. Steve had become a real pro with the chair and was moving around in it really fast. Even stairs, if they were not too steep, were no problem anymore. He even used the escalator when possible rather than the elevator at the Metro stations.

Steve made one last 360° sweep of his apartment and was out the door to meet with Milo, his 'water-therapist'.

H50 – H50 – H50

The pool at the rehab center was, as usual, a busy place. It was the one place where even paralyzed patients could move fairly unaided. Most of them enjoyed the time in the water. It gave them a freedom and mobility they didn't have on dry land. Steve always came half an hour early to enjoy a few laps of swimming before he had his aided session.

Swimming was second nature for Steve, and even though his right leg didn't move, not even in the water, he had no problem making a decent time swimming his laps. He put his earplug into his still ailing left ear and dove right into the water. Just like the others, he left his wheelchair at the edge of the water, so he could move around when he got out of the pool and over to the therapy pool. Thankfully he didn't need any help getting in or out of the water; that was something he had mastered early.

Of course, some of his fellow patients were more severely and permanently handicapped and needed assistance. Either by a therapist or even by using a lifting device. Steve couldn't really imagine having to be dependent on other people's help for the rest of his life. Shaking those morose thoughts out of his head he continued with his laps.

"Steve!"

Steve enjoyed another turn under water to swim his next lap. His doctor would have his head if he knew that Steve dove under water, even if it was just two or three feet. He pushed away from the wall and just enjoyed the feeling of being surrounded by his element.

"Steve!"

_Huh?_ Steve finally raised his head out of the water and saw Milo waving him to come to the pool's edge.

"Hi, Milo," he greeted the dark skinned giant with the soft voice. Milo towered over Steve by at least six inches.

"Don't 'Hi-Milo-me'. You're not supposed to swim today. Get your six out of there."

"She got to you too?" Steve asked him with a resigned groan.

Milo only laughed at his dramatics. "Come on, I let you have fun for twenty minutes. Almost your normal half hour. You need help getting out?" Milo offered his hand, and Steve didn't hesitate to pull himself out of the water by grabbing on to it.

His therapist had him on his feet next to the water in just a moment and helped him keep his balance while he pushed the wheelchair into the right position. Steve had taken the seat pad out so not to get it wet. He would put it back in when he was back in dry clothes and not in his swim shorts.

"Everything okay, Steve? What happened to your head?" Milo asked him as he pushed him toward the therapy part of the pools.

"Huh?"

"You have a pretty pronounced bruise on your temple and part of your forehead. Did you hit your head? Did you see Dr. Adams for it?" Milo leaned down and took a closer look at the discoloration caused by the thug's kick in the Metro station.

"No, I did not see Adams, and I don't plan to. I'm fine." Steve had no intention going to the hospital for a ridiculous little bruise.

"Steve." Now Milo's sigh could be called dramatic. "I know you don't want to hear it, and I know you don't feel like it, because you were damn lucky. BUT you are seriously injured. You have a damn serious TBI, and…"

"I know, but I _am_ fine. Milo, really, I'm almost healed. You can't even see the crack anymore…"

"I highly doubt that statement."

"Which one? That I'm fine or the crack?"

"You are so full of shit, Steve." Milo shook his head and couldn't help but grin. But he would keep a very close eye on his patient today and decide later if he would make him see his doctor or not. "You have no idea how lucky you are."

"Oh I do, Milo, I do," Steve almost whispered.

H50 – H50 – H50

"Milo?"

"No talking, Steve. Close your eyes and relax. Normally you're almost asleep by now. What's on your mind?" Milo asked Steve as he very gently moved his patient's right leg outward, as far away from his body as it would go.

"…"

"Steve?"

"You said no talking. Can I talk now?"

"Yes, please," Milo smiled down at his patient, who was suspended in the water, kept afloat by the elliptical float ring that went from his six to his neck. It kept the patients just under the surface of the water with only the head out of it. No movement by his patients was necessary to stay afloat. It was a completely relaxed position. Most were comfortable in it, but Steve brought it to a new dimension, he managed to fall asleep a few times during the sessions. Which was ideal for manipulative movements of the legs that only worked while the patient was completely relaxed.

Today Steve was anything but relaxed. Milo could feel a lot of resistance in the muscles and joints, even though Steve had no control over it.

"I was out yesterday. Sightseeing. Last time I did that was when I was in Annapolis… anyway, I went to have lunch at Ollie's Trolley, it's not far from the National Gallery of Art…"

"You went to take a look at a bunch of pictures?"

"Hey, no dissing the arts, I like arts. And they have a great ice cream shop there," Steve grinned up at his therapist. But he really enjoyed the exhibitions.

"Ah, I see. Okay, go on."

"As I was saying I had lunch at Ollie's. Have you been there? THE best burgers you will ever eat." Seeing Milo frowning at him, he hurried to continue. "I was sitting at one of the tables and minding my own business, when I was asked if I minded sharing my table."

"The waitress asked you?"

"What? No. A woman," he told Milo again with a huge smile on his face.

"A woman. Okay, so you had lunch with a woman?"

"Yeah. And it was really great. She didn't seem to mind that I was… you know."

"You were what?"

"Sitting in a wheelchair," Steve told him exasperated.

"Oh that. Well, why would she?"

"Oh come on. Do I really need to spell it out for you?"

"No, I know what you mean. But, Steve, believe it or not, there ARE people out there who really don't care about such things. Who don't judge a person by their appearance. I'm sure she saw YOU, and not the chair." Milo shook his head, but could understand that Steve had to struggle with all this. It was rather new to him, and he is sure Steve hasn't had a lot of contact with any handicapped people in his life. For that he did really well. "So, you are baffled that she sat down with you?"

"Yeah, that too… but no." Steve looked back at Milo, confusion clearly written all over his face. "She gave me her card and told me to call her if I wanted to have lunch again."

"Way to go, Steve. Have you called her?"

"No. You think I should have? Did she expect me to call her yesterday?"

"Calm down. No reason to panic," Milo told him as he bent Steve's leg at the knee and moved it towards his chest. Seeing Steve grimace he stopped, "Does that hurt?"

"Yeah. In my lower back."

"You need to do some stretching later. Did you do the exercises I showed you?"

"Ehm…"

"Steve, you need to do the stretching every morning. It's important. I know they hurt, but you have to do them, and not only in therapy but every morning."

"I have been really achy the last two days, that's why I didn't do them…"

"Your muscles will tense up on you big time if you don't do your exercises, Steve." Milo knew if Steve didn't do any of his training he must be in pain from the tensed muscles, so he went easy on him and would try to massage some of the cramps out of the muscles. "Now back to our topic. Would you like to see her again?"

"Yeah, I think so. She was kind of cool. You know? And nice, it was really nice talking to her."

"So, what's keeping you?" Milo looked at his patient who tried to hide the pain the movements caused. "Steve, try to relax a bit more." He stretched Steve completely out and started to loosen his tensed back muscles. Milo was sure if Steve were a cat he would be purring by now. "That better?"

"Hmm."

Milo grinned as Steve closed his eyes in obvious bliss, "So, are you going to call her?"

"Uh huh." Steve couldn't really be bothered to talk right now. What Milo did to him was beyond heavenly. He had his huge hands on Steve's hips and part of his lower back. Only his fingers were moving, but it felt like Steve's whole back was being massaged and stroked at once.

Milo pressed on a few more pressure points and would swear Steve was just completely blissed out. "So, what's the name of this mysterious woman of yours?"

"Catherine."

H50 – H50 – H50

* * *

_**Here you go, tiny little teaser for the next chapter. :-)**_

**Purple Heart – Chapter 06**

_**Steve McGarrett's house, Hawaii present time**_

"Wait a minute. You knew Steve back then?" Danny looked at Cath for an answer.

"Yeah, we met in Washington. When I saw him sitting in that restaurant, looking so sad and alone, I just had to take pity on him," Cath answered with a smile, making sure Steve knew she was kidding.

"I always wondered why you had asked to join me at lunch." Steve had wanted to ask her that for years now.

"You really don't know, do you?"


	6. Chapter 6

_**Thanks again for all your reviews and alerts. You have no idea how much they mean to me.**_

**_I hope everyone will have a blast tonight with 3x20 !_  
**

* * *

**Purple Heart – Chapter 06**

_**Steve McGarrett's house, Hawaii present time**_

"Wait a minute. You knew Steve back then?" Danny looked at Cath for an answer.

"Yeah, we met in Washington. When I saw him sitting in that restaurant, looking so sad and alone, I just had to take pity on him," Cath answered with a smile, making sure Steve knew she was kidding.

"I always wondered why you had asked to join me at lunch." Steve had wanted to ask her that for years now.

"You really don't know, do you?"

"No. I wouldn't ask if I knew. I mean, I was not really a picture of health. I'm sure I looked pretty pathetic," Steve told Cath and his friends. He remembered what he had been wearing that day, and it made him chuckle.

"Yeah, Cath, tell us what made you talk to Steve," Danny encouraged her.

"You looked like someone who had seen a lot, and I was interested in your story. But most of all it was the pamphlet from the National Gallery that did the trick. It was such a contrast seeing 'you' and knowing you were interested in Art."

"Are you serious? My visit to the Gallery made you sit down next to me?" Steve couldn't quite believe that.

"Well, that and I was hungry. The diner was packed and you were the cutest guy in the joint," Cath told them with a laugh.

Steve grinned at her and stole another kiss.

"Hey! None of that, you two. Stop it," Danny called to them with a wink.

"So, I take it Steve did call you to have lunch again?" Max asked, and it was obvious that he wanted to know how the story in D.C. proceeded.

"Oh yeah, he did. And let me tell you, he can talk you into anything if he wants to," she told them with a twinkle in her eyes, remembering their phone call.

"If I recall you didn't need that much encouragement," Steve tells them as he tried to get a bit more comfortable in his chair. His broken leg rested on a second chair, but it had started to hurt again. His last pain medication had been a while ago. Steve was still wearing the brace on his leg that went almost from his groin down to his ankle. His doctor insisted he wear it whenever he was out of bed and put weight on his leg. The hairline fracture was almost healed, but he was still at risk of further injury to the femur because he couldn't use two crutches due to his shoulder injury. Wearing the brace was a small price to pay, even though it hindered his movements a lot. Which was the whole idea of wearing it. But at least his right ankle was a lot better and he was able to hobble around.

"You okay?" Cath was well aware that her friend was hurting more than he let on.

"Yeah, fine."

"Uh huh, do you want another pill?"

"No, not yet," Steve shook his head at her. "As I was saying, Cath didn't need a lot of encouragement to come to dinner with me…"

"SO not true!" Steve didn't pay any attention to her mumbled words, and continued with his story.

H50 – H50 – H50

_**Washington D.C. – Rehab Center – 2006**_

"Steve, I want you to head over to Adams and get that bruise checked out."

"Oh come on, Milo, you can't be serious! I'm fine. Have been all morning." Steve couldn't believe his therapist wanted him to see his neurologist.

"Lieutenant, that was not a suggestion. Don't make me call Adams, and he'll make it an order."

"You wouldn't…"

"Watch me," Milo challenged his patient.

"Fine. I'll go. But I'm telling you, this is a waste of time." Steve knew that he had lost, but he didn't have to like it.

"Just humor me, Steve." Milo looked at the lieutenant and as much as Steve tried to hide it, he could clearly see the pain in his eyes. "Just admit your head is hurting big time."

"I just got a little headache. It's not that bad." Steve looked at Milo and hoped he was convincing enough.

"Uh huh," Milo was not convinced at all but let it rest for now. He concentrated back on stretching Steve's right leg. "Are you still suffering spasms?"

"No, not really. Only sometimes at night," Steve told him. In the beginning his leg muscles would spasm a few times a day and the Baclofen he had been taken for it only helped a little. But after a couple of weeks it lessened considerably and he was now very happy that he only had to deal with mostly mild cramping.

"Are you still on Baclofen?"

"No. The side effects were almost worse than the good it did."

"I know. Close your eyes, Steve. We're almost done. Relax and concentrate on your leg. Try to move it." Milo looked down at his patient, who was still floating in the warm water, suspended by the floating elliptical ring.

"I can't. I really try, but it's just…"

"Hey, it's okay, Steve. It will happen, don't worry. Your head is still not working straight. You will get there," Milo told Steve when he saw how frustrated he became. "Come on, I think you have had enough for today."

A few minutes later Steve wheeled to the changing rooms with Milo next to him. "I can change on my own, Milo. I don't need help."

"I know that. But I saw that there was no walker in the changing room, I'm going to get you one," Milo told him as he held the door open for Steve to pass through.

"Oh. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Have you tried using crutches?"

"Yeah, but I can't keep my balance with them. It's easier to move around with them, but after a minute or so, I lose my balance. I get really dizzy and need to sit down. It's frustrating."

"That doesn't happen with the walker?"

"No. I can hold on to it a lot better." Steve was very frustrated that he still couldn't keep his balance unaided. Two crutches simply didn't give him enough stability to keep standing or moving.

"I'm sure that will improve soon," Milo told him as he pulled the walker out of the utility room. "Let me adjust it for you." He adjusted the handle bars for Steve's height and put it in front of Steve's wheelchair so he could grab onto it when he stood up. "I'm going to dry the chair and put the cushion back in while you take your shower. Call me if you need any help."

"I will," Steve said and grabbed on to the walker and easily stood up. Ever since this morning he could stand up a lot easier than in the last weeks. He still couldn't move his leg, but he had the feeling that it was a bit more stable. Steve felt confident that he might even be able to stand in the shower. It would be the first time since he was injured.

Steve watched Milo tend to his next patient who had arrived a minute ago. Colonel Oxley had lost both his legs in an accident six months ago. Steve looked down at his own legs and thought how lucky he had been. To be as close to a blast as he had been normally means missing limbs; or death. But he got away with just a head injury and moderate blast trauma. He really was one lucky SOB.

H50 – H50 – H50

Steve sat in one of the ER trauma rooms and was told someone would be with him in a few minutes. He felt silly occupying a trauma room when he was really fine. He was just thinking about leaving when his doctor, Colonel Adams came into the room.

"Lieutenant McGarrett, the front desk said you were here. We're scheduled for Monday for a follow up. What's wrong, you feel okay?"

"I feel fine, Sir."

"Then why are you here?" Adams looked up from his clipboard as he stepped closer. "Wow… that is an impressive bruise. What happened to your head?"

"Ehm… I fell. Yesterday; in the early evening. But I feel fine. Milo insisted that I come here," Steve told his doctor.

"He was right to do so. We need to make sure there is no damage to the skull or your ear. Tell me what happened." Dr. Adams took out his pen light and checked Steve pupils; he accompanied his task with noncommittal mumbling.

Steve told him about his day and how he ended up on the ground of the Metro station.

"So, were you unconscious?" Adams had sat down on a rolling stool and listened intently to his patient.

"Not really. I was severely dizzy, and was for a few hours. I woke up this morning with a really bad headache, but after about half an hour it was okay. Now I feel fine," Steve looked at Col. Adams and hoped he could convince him not to do any tests. He still had a mild headache but he was sure it would go away soon.

"Okay, here is the deal, Lieutenant. I know you feel a lot better than you really are. I understand that. But what you have to understand is that you are still suffering from a serious injury. Your skull fracture is not completely healed yet. Your sense of balance is still shot to hell due to the severe injury to your inner ear. We still don't know if that will improve in time." Dr. Adams looked at Steve and could see that he was not happy to be reminded of his injuries. "You have to handle your head with special care at the moment. So to speak." Adams smiled at the face McGarrett made about that comment.

"I am careful, Sir. And I know I was lucky."

"Yes, you were. We should play this safe, and that's why I want a CT."

Steve couldn't quite keep in the groan after hearing that.

"Is there a problem with that, Lieutenant?"

"Ehm, it's just… it's very uncomfortable to lie on my back," Steve admitted.

"Are you still experiencing pain while doing so?"

"Yes, Sir. And my leg starts to spasm if I lie on my back for longer than five minutes. I normally sleep on my side or stomach."

"We will make you as comfortable as possible during the scan. But I really feel it is necessary."

Steve only nodded his head, he knew he couldn't get out of this one, so he accepted what was inevitable. But he also knew that he would be in pain after the test, and there was not much he could do about it. Unless he took one of his heavy duty painkillers, which he clearly didn't want. They always made him fuzzy, and he had a date tonight. Well, not yet, but hopefully soon.

"Lieutenant?"

"Sorry, Sir." Steve looked at Adams who obviously had asked him a question while he had been daydreaming.

"I asked if you need help getting on the gurney."

"No, Sir."

"Good. I will send in a nurse, she'll prepare you for the scan. I will see you again when we have the test results," Adams told Steve and left him alone for the time being.

Forty five minutes later the CT was done and he was back in the ER. Again sitting in his wheelchair; the only difference now was that his leg and back were hurting. And that the headache had increased while he lay in that damn torture device. He had suffered through severe cramping in his leg during the test, and now he just hoped to get home soon.

Steve looked up when Col. Adams came back into the room, with a serious expression on his face. That didn't bode well.

"Well, Lieutenant McGarrett, it's not as bad as I feared, but it's not good either," Adams told Steve as he clipped the CT film onto the light box. "Here is your scan from last week, and on the right from just now." Adams pointed to the two films and looked at Steve.

Steve wheeled closer and stared at the images. If he was honest, he couldn't see much on them anyway, not from close up or from farther away.

"Can you see the difference here on the side?" Adams motioned to a spot on both images.

"No, Sir. They look just like a gray mass to me," Steve told him honestly.

"Here you can see your original skull fracture. On the new picture the fracture is longer than in the old one."

"I cracked my head again?" Steve couldn't believe that.

"Yeah, you did. But there is nothing we need to do about it." Adams looked at his patient and continued, "But it is very important that you're more careful. Something like hitting your head can have fatal consequences for you. Or put you in that wheelchair permanently, or take away your balance for good."

"Sir, I am careful. I had to help her, I…"

"I know. I just want you to be aware that you are not healed. You are not back to normal. All that you are still suffering from, the paralysis, the vertigo and headaches are caused by your head injury."

"Yes, Sir, I know. I'll be more careful in the future. Can I go back to work on Monday?" Steve hoped that privilege wouldn't be taken from him.

"If you're not experiencing any headaches, then yes. And I want you take it easy over the weekend. No strenuous activity, lieutenant."

"Yes, Sir."

"And take a cab to work next week, no Metro adventures for a while. You got that?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good. Now get out of here and check back on Monday afternoon. Make an appointment before you leave," Adams told Steve and made it clear that he was dismissed.

"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir."

It took Steve only a few minutes to get his new appointment, and then he was finally on his way home. There was still a phone call he had to make.

H50 – H50 – H50

Lieutenant Catherine Rollins looked down at her phone that was in the process of vibrating itself off the table. Before it toppled over the edge she grabbed it and looked at the unknown number. She hoped it was the guy from yesterday's lunch. She really would love to meet him again.

"Lieutenant Rollins," she said into the phone as she took the call. She almost held her breath until she heard the voice she was hoping for.

"Uh… hi, Catherine… it's Steve."

"Good morning. I was hoping you would call," Cath said and wondered if she sounded too eager.

"I, uh.. I wanted to thank you for the pleasant company yesterday."

She could practically see Steve shaking his head at his own words, the thought that he was just as nervous as she was brought a smile to her face.

"The pleasure was all mine." _God, that isn't any better_, she thought.

"I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner with me?"

"I would like that."

"Great! I mean… good. That's good." She laughed when she could hear the happiness in his voice. "How about tonight? I have this invitation from a friend, and I would love for you to come. I mean if you want to. He's really nice. And his wife is cooking."

"I'd love to," Catherine interrupted his babbling.

"Really? I mean, that's good. I said that already, didn't I? I'm sorry, I'm normally not such an idiot. Let's try this again. Would you mind coming to my place, say 05:45 Ty will pick us up. I don't even know where he lives, actually."

"Yes, I can do that. I will see you then. And Steve?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you for calling me."

"Uh huh."

Catherine only laughed and ended the call with a big smile on her face. And only then did she realize that Steve never gave her his address. Her phone started vibrating again and she grinned seeing Steve's phone number.

H50 – H50 – H50

* * *

**_Thanks again for reading. Let me know what you think. Would love to hear from you.  
_**

**_And here is another tiny little sneak peek._**

**Purple Heart – Chapter 7**

Steve was nervous. He looked in the mirror and shook his head at his own silliness; he had changed his shirt twice now. He was wearing jeans, not a faded old pair like yesterday, but a designer pair he had paid good money for. They looked really nice, but more importantly they were very comfortable, even after sitting for a few hours. He realized very early that not every pair of pants was made for sitting.

Deciding on pants and shoes was easy, but he was struggling with his shirt. His favorite one was in the laundry, and the one he was wearing now didn't match the jeans. "You are crazy to think about your damn shirt," Steve thought out loud and wheeled out of the bathroom. He threw the shirt on the bed and pulled out a sweater to pull on over his tee shirt. Now he wouldn't need a jacket, and if it got too warm at Ty's, he could still just sit there in his tee.


	7. Chapter 7

**Purple Heart – Chapter 7**

Steve was nervous. He looked in the mirror and shook his head at his own silliness; he had changed his shirt twice now. He was wearing jeans, not a faded old pair like yesterday, but a designer pair he had paid good money for. They looked really nice, but more importantly they were very comfortable, even after sitting for a few hours. He realized very early that not every pair of pants was made for sitting.

Deciding on pants and shoes was easy, but he was struggling with his shirt. His favorite one was in the laundry, and the one he was wearing now didn't match the jeans. "You are crazy to think about your damn shirt," Steve thought out loud and wheeled out of the bathroom. He threw the shirt on the bed and pulled out a sweater to pull on over his tee shirt. Now he wouldn't need a jacket, and if it got too warm at Ty's, he could still just sit there in his tee.

Finally done with his wardrobe he wheeled around his small apartment and cleaned up a little more. He had wanted to do that in the afternoon, but when he came home from the hospital he lay down for a short while. He woke up four hours later and had to hurry to get ready. _So much for cleaning up in the afternoon._

But he had obviously needed the sleep. His headache was a lot better, still there in the background, but not as bad as this morning. Steve had debated for a minute taking one of his pain pills, especially since his leg was still hurting after the spasms in the MRI, but he decided to try to take the edge off with just two Tylenol. So far, they hadn't done a damn thing about the pain in his leg.

The ringing of the doorbell interrupted his thoughts. He took one last look around the apartment and went to greet his guest.

"Hi… you look… really nice out of uniform… I mean… uh," Steve stammered as he opened the door and looked at Catherine for a moment.

"Hi… uh, you gonna let me in?" Catherine asked with a smile when Steve didn't make a move to let her in.

"Oh, sorry." Steve shook his head and wheeled back to make room for her to come in.

"Steve, what happened to you?" Cath saw the bruise on Steve's forehead, stepped closer and gently touched it. "Does it hurt?" She softly asked.

"It's nothing really. I fell, but I'm okay." Steve didn't want to talk about his 'adventure' in the Metro station.

"You sure?" After Steve nodded, she let it rest and took a look around the room. "This looks nice; I like the glass wall." She pointed to the milky glass with the big sliding door behind which his bedroom and adjoining bathroom were.

"Yeah, that's pretty cool, it lets a lot of light in." Steve actually was amazed at the design of his temporary home. "And it's practical too, the sliding door I mean. It's easy to open from a wheelchair." The bathroom also had a sliding door, which made going in and out much easier. But since he left the door open most of the time anyway, it didn't really matter.

"How long have you been staying here?" Catherine wanted to know.

"Six weeks. Before that I was at Bethesda." Steve wheeled to his open kitchen, "can I get you something to drink?"

"No, thanks. How long ago were you… I mean if it's okay to talk about it? If you don't want to…"

"No, it's fine. Three months. It happened almost three months ago," Steve answered. He was prepared to answer those questions. He was sure Ty and his wife would also ask about it. "You sure you don't want anything to drink?"

"Yeah. So, I'm going to meet 'Ty' tonight? Who is he?" Cath asked as she was 'inspecting' Steve's uniform shirt that hung over a chair.

"I met him the first week I was allowed back to work. He drives a cab, and the first day was not a good one, and on my way home… well, let's just say his cab needed a cleaning afterwards," Steve told her a little embarrassed. He was sure he was blushing thinking about his first day and getting sick in the cab.

Before he could elaborate on what happened back then his doorbell rang again, and he excused himself to let his friend in. Steve had called Ty and asked if he could bring a friend, so he wouldn't be surprised when he came to pick him up.

When Steve opened the door Ty greeted him and gave him the thumbs up after seeing Steve in civilian clothes for the first time.

"Wow, Steve, you look different. What the heck happened to your head? Are you doing okay?" Ty asked as he came in.

"Yeah, I'm good," Steve closed the door and followed his friend into the living room. "Ty, this is Catherine Rollins. Cath meet Tyrese O'Dell," Steve introduced his two new friends.

"O'Dell?" Cath asked as she shook hands with Steve's friend.

"Don't ask. My family is wildly mixed. I think you will find someone from every continent in my family's past," Ty told them with a bellowing laugh. O'Dell was not really a name that fit Ty's description.

"It's nice to meet you, Ty."

"Likewise. So, are you ready to leave?" Ty turned to Steve.

"Ready to go."

H50 – H50 – H50

Steve looked in surprise at Ty when they stood in front of his house. There was a ramp leading up to the door, and it was clear that someone was using a wheelchair in their household.

"I told you it was no problem to get around with your wheels in my house," Ty explained when he saw Steve's look. "Come on, let's get inside." Tyrese walked to the door and waited for Steve and Cath to follow him.

Steve stayed back a little and watched Cath walk up the long ramp that led in a low angle up to the door. It was very easy to maneuver on the path; there obviously had been a lot of planning that went into the walkway. When he reached the door, he was greeted by Ty's wife who was sitting in a chair very similar to Steve's.

"Steve, it is so good to finally meet you. Delly has told me so much about you."

"Don't believe a word he said, ma'am."

"Oh, please call me Debby," Ty's wife told them as she moved out of the way to let them in.

"Thanks, Debby. This is Catherine Rollins," Steve motioned to Catherine and wheeled into the house.

"Call me Catherine, please. Thank you for having me. I know it was very short notice," Cath greeted the woman of the house.

"That's no problem at all, you're very welcome. Please come in," Debby said and proceeded to follow Steve, who was watching the exchange from the living room.

They continued with small talk until Debby excused herself to disappear into the kitchen. On her way out she stopped next to Steve, who didn't seem to be able to sit still. He had been constantly changing position in his chair or was unconsciously massaging his right thigh. "Steve, are you okay? Anything we can do for you?"

"No, thank you, I'm fine." Steve smiled at her.

Debby's mother instinct kicked in, and she would swear that the young man in front of her was hurting big time, and trying valiantly not to let it on. If she was a betting person, she would put her money on saying he was suffering through some serious cramping. "Could you give me a hand in the kitchen, Steve?"

"Of course," Steve answered in surprise. He excused himself and wheeled after his friend's wife into their spacious kitchen, out of sight and earshot of Cath and Ty.

"How can I help?"

She looked at him, shaking her head. "Is there anything you need to do to ease the pain in your leg? Any stretching, medication, or anything else you don't want your girlfriend to see?"

Steve looked wide-eyed at Debby and had to chuckle, "Guess I'm not as good as I thought at hiding it? And she is not my girlfriend; I just met her yesterday."

"No, I think you need a little more training in that regard. And about your girlfriend? Give it some time," Debby told him smiling. "Your leg is trembling; how bad is it?"

"Not too bad at the moment; it's starting to cramp though. I was forced to lie on my back this morning; that's what is causing this." Steve had no idea why he was even telling this to a woman he had just met, but somehow he felt comfortable around her.

"I have noticed that you can move your left leg. Are you able to stand on it, and would standing up for a bit help with the pain?"

"Yeah, that's what I do when it happens at home. But I can't stand without a walker; I can't keep my balance." Steve mentally shook his head; he was sure he would reveal his family secrets to this woman.

"Okay, follow me, young man." Debby didn't even wait for Steve to heed her order and wheeled back into the living room. "Delly, get my old walker, please. Steve needs to stand up for a little while. Catherine, you make sure that he doesn't fall," Debby motions for Cath to get up and help her 'boyfriend'.

"Debby, really, I'm fine. This is not…"

"Nonsense, you need to stretch your leg. You can take a little tour around the house while Delly and I get dinner ready," Debby told them and any resistance was obviously futile.

A couple of minutes later Steve and Cath were alone in the living room, with Cath awkwardly holding on to Steve, who could barely hold in his laughter. "She is worse than my therapist," he stage whispered to Cath.

"Yeah, well, but she is really something," Cath said and smiled up at Steve. "You know, this is a nice perspective. You are tall; I like that."

Steve grinned down at her, but it turned into a frown when the room started to shift. That was just what he needed, vertigo was hitting him out of nowhere, and he was thankful when Cath sensed his distress and grabbed on to him. "I need to sit down."

"Can you make it to the couch? Or can I let go of you and get your chair?"

"NO, no don't let go. I can make it, just hold on please." Steve was determined not to face plant in front of Cath. He was sure without her holding him more or less upright he would already be kissing the floor. The room was spinning, and the accompanying falling sensation was making him nauseous. He had not had such a severe case in a few weeks.

It felt like an eternity later that Steve sat very ungracefully down on the couch. He leaned his head back and hoped for the spinning sensation to stop. He felt the couch dip when Catherine sat down next to him and grabbed his hand.

"Are you okay?"

"Uh huh. I will be in a minute," Steve told her without opening his eyes. He held on to her hand and wondered how strange this all was. First, he normally wasn't the touchy feely kind of guy, and second, he was not one to show weakness. But somehow it felt different with Catherine, and he had no problem with her taking care of him.

H50 – H50 – H50

"Debby this is the best chicken I've ever had. It's amazing," Steve said as he put the last piece of chicken in his mouth.

"I'm glad you all enjoyed it." Debby smiled at all.

"This was truly great, thank you, Debby," Cath said but looked at Steve, who was obviously feeling a lot better after his little break down earlier. She was very glad to see that he seemed to be enjoying himself.

"I hope you all have left some room for dessert?"

Mock groaning was the answer. Surely everyone wanted to at least try out what the cook had to offer.

"Can we help with anything?" Steve asked and wheeled back from the table, ready to help in any way she would let him.

"No, Delly has it covered," Debby answered with a twinkle in her eyes. And her husband only laughed as he prepared the table for dessert. "So, Steve, Delly told me you work at the Pentagon?" Debby asked as they waited for Ty to finish his task.

"At the moment, yeah. Normally, I'm not behind a desk, but I have no choice right now."

"But you will get back out in the field?"

"I hope so," Steve answered.

"You don't know yet?" Debby didn't want to intrude, but had the feeling that her guest wanted to talk about it. To get his worries off his chest. And normally she was right with her assessments.

"My doctor said the chances are only fifty/fifty that I will get back control over my leg. But, you know, I shouldn't even be here. I was only fifteen feet from a massive explosion; I was buried under a ton of rubble, and all I have to show for it is a head injury, and moderate blast trauma. I _**should**_ be dead. I should have been blown to pieces, but I was not." Steve looked at Debby and Cath, and wondered why it felt so good to talk about it. He hadn't even talked to the therapist who had been assigned to his case.

"Why weren't you? Blown to pieces I mean," Debby asked. Now that Steve was talking she wouldn't hold back with her curiosity.

"I'm not sure, but I was hit by a door or something. That took a lot of the blast, and saved me from any shrapnel. I had no secondary injuries. When I was smashed into a wall some fifty feet away that piece tilted against the wall and built a little room I was lying in. It saved me a second time from all the rubble that I was buried under."

"And then your buddies got you out?"

"Yeah, they dug me out. I can't remember much of it, I blacked out. I cracked my head pretty good, and bruised my spine. There was a lot of swelling pressing on the nerves. When I woke up the first time, I couldn't move at all. But they put me under, and I woke up nine days later at Bethesda," Steve told the two women. He had never talked about it with anyone before, but somehow it felt good to tell someone.

"And when you woke up you were paralyzed?" Cath asked her first question, hoping that it was okay to do so.

"I couldn't hear much of anything, both my eardrums were busted. And my inner ear on the left was pretty messed up; that's why I still suffer from vertigo. I had surgery on it, but they are not sure whether the hearing will come back. My right ear is fine though. I had a skull fracture on the left directly behind my ear, and a severe concussion. All that together with the trauma to the spine is causing the paralysis. My doctor can explain it a lot better, but that is mostly what it is. I can't send out the signals to my leg. The left one is fine now, not a hundred percent, but I'm getting there. But the right one is not working at all," telling it to Cath and Debby makes him feel frustrated again.

"Steve, I'm sure you will get your leg to work again. You have no spinal cord injury?"

"No. There was some pressure on the nerves for a few weeks, but the swelling is completely gone. I can feel everything; I just can't get my leg to move."

"You will," Debby told him with confidence.

"Can I ask why you are in a wheelchair?" Steve thought it was only fair after he told her almost everything.

"Ten years ago I fell off a ladder and broke two vertebrae and severed my spinal cord. It's not complete, but I don't have enough control to walk or stand. But it could have been a lot worse. I was very lucky," Debby told them her story.

"That must be so hard to suddenly change your lifestyle," Cath said and could only imagine what someone like Debby must go through after such an injury.

"Yeah it is. But you know I can do a thousand things just as well as everyone else can. There are just a few I can't do. I like to concentrate on the ones I can do. I'm just sitting in a wheelchair; my life is still really good. As I said, I was very lucky."

"I'm the lucky one, actually," Ty was back with a cake in his hands.

"Wow, that looks great," Steve called out after seeing the cake.

"It's a half frozen blueberry cream cake with meringue," Debby told them about her new recipe.

After looking at the cake everyone made room for it, and it didn't only look good it tasted even better.

H50 – H50 – H50

"Debby, thank you so much. Thank you for listening," Steve thanked Debby as they were leaving. Cath and Ty were already at the car, but Steve wanted to make sure that Debby knew how much this evening meant to him.

"You're welcome, Steve. And I hope to see you again soon," she shook his hand and hoped that he would come by again.

"You will; I promise."

Steve wheeled down the ramp and waved again at his new friend. Ty was waiting for him at the cab and without a word helped him into the back of the car. Steve was tired; the day was long, and his leg was still hurting. So he didn't complain when he wasn't even asked if he needed help. He knew that Ty could read him by now, and he was okay with this kind of help. Even with Cath nearby.

Fifteen minutes later he said his good-bye to Ty and invited Cath in for a night cap. He had no idea why he did that, he really was tired and his leg was bothering him, but he didn't want to part ways yet.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I mean, only if you want to…"

"Oh, I want to," Cath answered a bit too fast. Which made Steve smile.

"Good. The apartment came with this great modern coffee machine, took me a while to figure it out, but now it makes great coffee. Well, it made it before, I just needed to figure out how it worked… sorry, I'm talking too much," Steve realized he was talking complete nonsense.

"Does it make espresso?"

"Yeah, I think it does." Steve smiled at her.

"Well, then let's try that."

H50 – H50 – H50

"I… I can't Cath. I'm sorry." Steve didn't look her in the eyes, embarrassed by his admission.

"What do you mean? You want to take it slow? That's okay with me," Catherine told him as she leaned back a little to look at Steve.

The espresso, and any tiredness or hurting leg was long forgotten as the two people were sitting on the couch. They were still fully clothed and had been necking for the last few minutes, but Cath would love to take this further. Preferably to the bedroom.

"No, I mean… yeah, but…," Steve said, clearly struggling for the right words. "There is a problem… I… I can't. It's not working…" Steve stopped, again embarrassed about the situation.

Cath just smiled and looked down between them as she let her hand wander south, following her gaze. "Well, Lieutenant, I'm not sure what you think your problem is, but I'd say everything is working just fine." To underline her words, she gently squeezed her target, which caused Steve to gasp in surprise.

He had been so focused on how to tell Cath that his body didn't work in that regard, that he hadn't even noticed how that part of his anatomy was very happy and eagerly reacting to her touch. "Oh."

It was a safe bet that after this discovery, the night took a very interesting turn. They were so eager to get this to the next stage that neither of them noticed how they walked to the bedroom. Steve never let go of Cath, and never noticed that he used his right leg without even thinking about it.

H50 – H50 – H50


	8. Chapter 8

**Thank you all so much for reading. I think I thanked every reviewer in a pm, if not, I'm sorry I didn't mean to ignore you. Also thanks to every guest reviewer and to the ones who have pm disabled.**

**And now on to the next chapter.**

* * *

**Purple Heart – Chapter 8**

Steve leisurely stretched in bed, then turned and snuggled closer to Cath, draping his leg over hers. And froze. He even held his breath. But he was instantly awake. Cath must have sensed that something was wrong and woke up as well.

"You okay?" She sleepily asked.

"I moved," Steve told her in complete awe.

"Huh?"

"My leg; I moved my leg," Steve told her as he wiggled his toes. It was painful, but Steve didn't care. He was way too happy with the new found ability to register the pain coursing through his leg all the way up to his hip.

"Your bad leg?" Cath asked as she propped herself on her elbows.

"Uh huh." Was Steve's answer. He was still moving his toes and started to pull his leg up, but had to stop when fierce pain shot up his leg. Steve couldn't quite keep in the groan.

"Don't overdo it," came Cath's worried reply.

Steve stilled his movements and grinned at his bed companion. "Good Morning, Lieutenant."

"Good Morning, Lieutenant," Cath answered with a smile in her voice. "You gave your leg quite a workout last night. We walked here from the couch, AND," she paused for dramatic effect. "We were not really lying still after we got to bed last night."

Remembering what they had been doing last night made Steve smile big time. "Guess we didn't."

"How do you feel? Does your leg hurt?" Cath snuggled closer and laid her head on his chest allowing her hand to wander all over the place.

"I haven't used the muscles in weeks and they feel really sore," Steve told her as he tried to stretch out his aching leg.

"You should probably call your doctor or your therapist and let them know."

"Later. I think we should do something else first," Steve answered and turned to Cath, now half lying on her.

"Oh, Lieutenant, and what might that be?" She asked between kisses.

"I'll show you."

And so he did.

H50 – H50 – H50

"Who is coming to see you?" Cath asked Steve as he hastily tried to get out of bed.

They had spent almost all morning in bed with a short bathroom break and a breakfast which they also ate in bed.

They again heard the banging on the door and now they also heard the voice. "Steve! Open up!"

"Ah, shit," Steve exclaimed.

"What?"

Steve ignored Cath for a moment and looked for his wheelchair which was idly standing a few feet from the bed.

"Could you please get—"

Cath was already out of the bed and put the wheelchair in front of him, laughing while doing so.

"You really want to open the door like that?"

Only then did Steve look down at himself and then up at Cath, realizing that they were both naked.

"Uh—"

"Steve! Are you alright in there?" It seemed that the visitor was getting a bit impatient.

"I'll be right there, Sir," Steve called out toward the entrance. Turning to Cath he continued, "can you please get me something out of the closet to wear?" Steve looked at her pleadingly.

Cath stopped getting dressed, she was in jeans and bra by now and looked at Steve.

"Sure."

It only took her a moment to find underwear, a tee and sweatpants. Steve's closet was so organized that she almost had to laugh at the order in there. Everything was sorted by article and even color.

With Cath's help Steve was dressed in under a minute, but couldn't hide how much it had hurt to get dressed in a hurry. Moving his leg had sent a sharp pain all the way up to his hip.

"You alright?" Of course Cath had noticed.

"Yeah, just sore." Steve grinned at her.

"I think you have every right to be sore," she said as she engaged in a quick kiss. "Can you get off the bed on your own? Never mind," she said and shook her head seeing him transferring to the wheelchair with ease.

Steve wheeled out of the bedroom and closed the sliding door, giving her some privacy to finish getting dressed.

He made his way out to his hallway to let in his former CO. He was a bit apprehensive about the visit since he had no idea how much Joe White knew about his injuries.

Steve opened the door to reveal Joe, who was just ready to bang on the door again. If he was shocked to see him sitting in a wheelchair Joe hid it well.

"Sir, I'm sorry I kept you waiting," Steve said as he wheeled back a little to let the Lieutenant Commander in.

"Good to see you, son."

"Thank you, Sir. Please come in."

McGarrett watched his former CO move past him and closed the door. He took a deep breath and took a moment before he made his way into the living room, surprised to see Catherine standing in the kitchen, making coffee and already engaged in a conversation with Joe White.

"I see you have already met Lt. Rollins."

"Yes, I have," Joe grinned at Steve, sensing his discomfort about the situation.

They all knew why it had taken so long to open the door, and that it had nothing to do with him sitting in a wheelchair.

"Uhm, I think I should be going, so the two of you can catch up," Cath said as she gave Joe his coffee.

"You don't have to leave because of me, Lieutenant."

"No, that's okay, Sir. I have a prior engagement." Cath made her way over to grab her jacket and turned back to her friend. "I'll call you later tonight?"

"Yeah, sure." Steve went to the door with her and when they were out of sight she bent down for a quick kiss good-bye.

"Going to miss you."

Cath only smiled and stole another kiss.

"I'll call you," she whispered and reluctantly let go.

A moment later Steve closed the door after her and wheeled back into his living room to face his former CO.

H50 – H50 – H50

"So, they still don't know for sure if your hearing will come back?" Joe asked after they had spent the last few hours catching up.

"No, Sir. My hearing on the right is back to a hundred percent, but I hear mostly white noise on the left. It's unnerving at times."

"Have you received any therapy for it?"

"No. They operated on it, and told me the hearing should come back on-line, so to speak. They did all they could," Steve told him a bit frustrated.

"Well, let's hope it will get better with time."

"There is a lot that needs to get better," Steve said with a low voice.

"I'm sure it will, Steve. Looks to me you've already come a long way. Just surviving that blast..." Joe didn't finish his sentence, but they both knew how incredibly lucky Steve had been. "So, now tell me about that nice young lady."

"Uh, you mean Lieutenant Rollins?"

"Unless you have another girl hiding in your closet? YES, I mean the lieutenant."

"There's not much to tell, I met her two days ago. And we kind of hit it off, you know?" Steve told his former CO, who was more like an uncle to him. At times even more like a father. Just thinking about Catherine made Steve smile and he could see from the grin on Joe's face that it was obviously showing.

"You really like her," Joe told him.

"She is really cool. I can talk to her, and she knows what she wants and doesn't take any shit from me. She is really cool, Joe."

"You said that," Joe said with laughter in his voice. His young friend was obviously very taken with that lieutenant.

Steve looked at Joe and had to laugh. This was a side of him he didn't even know he had. Not since he was fourteen and fell for one of the girls in his chemistry class. He had it bad back then. "How about an early dinner, Joe? There is a great Chinese Restaurant right around the corner," Steve asked in the hope of changing the topic.

"You want to order in?"

"No, actually, I'd like to go out for a bit. If that's okay with you?"

"Yeah, that's fine."

"Great. I need a few minutes to get changed. If you like there are sodas in the fridge, sorry no beer," Steve told his friend as he wheeled to his bedroom to change into something more appropriate than sweatpants.

"You need any help?"

"No, be right back." Steve took his clothes and went into his bathroom to change. No need for Joe to see his struggle with a simple task such as putting on pants. Besides he needed to use the facilities anyway.

It was almost fifteen minutes later when Steve emerged from the bathroom. Dressed again in jeans and a sweater. He wheeled out to the living room and just heard the tail end of a conversation Joe was having on the phone.

"I promise to call with an update… Yes… I gotta go… Call you later," Joe said and turned to Steve.

"Who was on the phone?"

"A friend of mine who I hope to see tomorrow. So, are you ready to leave?"

H50 – H50 – H50

_**Hawaii, present time**_

"It was _**you**_. Joe talked to you." The look on Steve's face changed from confusion to realization and he looked at his mother for confirmation, even though he was sure that he was right. "He updated you on my condition, didn't he? You kept tabs on me all those years." Not only did it _sound_ like an accusation, it _was_ one.

"Steven. I… I had heard that you were injured, but I had no idea how badly, I couldn't find out for myself. So I asked Joe to check on you," his mother explained.

"Joe came to see me because you ordered him to, not because he…" Back then Steve had still believed that Joe cared about him, now he wasn't even sure of that anymore. He didn't know if he should be touched that his mother cared or pissed that she continued to watch him from afar. Never coming out, even after he was a SEAL and very capable of taking care of himself. Her excuse that it had been for his protection flew out the window after he was grown and in an elite group of the military.

Even before that he felt like her reasoning was flawed. _If you need to go into hiding, you do so with your kids. You don't fake your own death and leave your kids behind thinking the mother they loved with all their hearts had been blown to pieces. _

Steve tried to get hold of his emotions and all the words that were bubbling just under the surface. He knew this was neither the time nor place to address the issue. He refused to blow up in front of his friends, but he had a hard time keeping his sadness and anger in check.

"Joe was so worried when he found out that you had been caught in an explosion. He told me over the phone and I could hear how scared he was. How scared we both were. We only had the information that you were in D.C. recovering from severe injuries that had put you in a coma for a week—"

"I wasn't in a coma," Steve interrupted her speech. "I had been in and out of consciousness, but I was never comatose."

Doris sighed and admitted, "I made a lot of mistakes, Steven. I know that. But I never stopped loving you or worrying about you."

"You have a funny way of showing that," Steve mumbled under his breath. He was not willing to have this conversation with his mother right now, not with his friends sitting here. He looked up and saw the concern on all their faces; he could see they were a bit worried that they would be witness to any drama enfolding. That thought actually made him chuckle a bit, which turned into a giggle. A manly giggle of course, and thinking that, he couldn't help himself, he started laughing. _Stop that or they'll think you just lost it._

"What's so funny? What are you laughing about?" Danny asked his friend, shaking his head at Steve's very odd and out of character behavior.

"Nothing," Steve said between a snort and laughter. "Argh." It was not a good idea to wave Danny's question off with his left arm. They had had PT again this morning, and what Jolene had done to him was not funny. His shoulder had been throbbing all day, but now, after that stupid move, it was agonizing.

Five weeks. He got shot five weeks ago, and his shoulder still hurt like a bitch at times. Like right now. He hung his head and tried to breathe through the pain attack.

"I'll get you a pill, okay?" Cath leaned over and gently rubbed his back.

Steve only nodded; he knew that he would not be worth much without pain medication. In a few minutes, the shoulder muscles would seize up and that pain was really unbearable. He straightened up in his seat and looked at his friend sitting across the table. Just in time to see his guilt ridden face. "Danny, it's not your fault."

"I shot you," Danny whispered.

"First of all, I can't remember that, so stop reminding me of it. Secondly, and more importantly, your bullet didn't do this damage," Steve told Danny for what he thought the hundredth time. "The two idiots who almost pulled my arm out of its socket did. They did all the damage to the tendons, muscles and they are responsible for the bone damage. Not you, Danny, I swear." Steve can still remember the unbelievable pain that had shot through his shoulder when two of Assante's men pulled his arms around their shoulders to drag him along. That was the moment his shoulder had been damaged almost beyond repair. That is why he was still in such pain from the scraped bones. Why it still hurt so much to rotate his shoulder, and why he still didn't have much strength in his left arm.

Steve could see that Danny still struggled with the guilt of shooting his partner. He had tried to explain to him that friendly fire happens and that it wasn't his fault. But he could understand that Danny thought otherwise. Steve would feel the same way if the roles were reversed. He wondered for a moment what Danny was thinking right now, he looked like he was miles away.

H50 – H50 – H50

_**Rehabilitation Hospital of the Pacific – Nu'uanu Clinic**_

_**Two weeks ago**_

Detective Danny Williams looked at his best friend who was trying not to show how much the therapy was hurting him. His therapist held his left arm at the wrist and below the elbow and was gently pulling the arm upward. Even from across the room Danny could hear Steve's suppressed groans of pain.

Parts of the bullet he had put into his friend had lodged themselves into the joint and had caused quite a bit of damage. Not to mention the torn muscles, tendons and the fractured clavicle. But Danny knew that the joint pain was the worst. He knew, even without Steve ever complaining about it, that every little movement of the arm was painful.

Danny had heard the doctor explaining to Steve that he might be facing chronic pain from the shoulder joint. Something about the bullet scraping parts of the bone; or something like that. The bone's surface was not as smooth as it used to be, and that was what was causing the pain during movement.

Danny hoped that it would get better with time along with the therapy, and the daily injections. He didn't know how he would live with knowing he was the cause of his friend being in constant pain. And he knew that it was not just some mild discomfort, he had seen Steve holding his arm and trying not to jostle or move it.

It had been over three weeks now and Steve still only had a fraction of the normal range of motion back. His clavicle was almost all healed up, so that he now could fully participate in therapy.

Danny watched his friend a little while longer as he waited for his therapist to make an entrance. He looked down at his own leg that was no longer in thick bandages. Contrary to Steve he didn't have to wear a cast or a brace. He had to laugh a little about Steve constantly complaining about the special brace he had to wear that went from above his ankle all the way up to his groin. It looked kind of funny when he was wearing it over his clothes.

The brace was not just for the partially broken femur but also for the injured knee. Falling down onto it and cutting it open caused an injury to the joint, and so not to aggravate it until it was all healed, Steve had to use the hated brace.

Danny had fared better in that regard; his bone had been badly fractured, but they had operated on it. They fixed it all up with screws and plates, and now it looked almost back to normal after the wound had healed pretty nicely. Today he was here to learn how to measure the weight he was allowed to put on his leg for the very first time since his surgery. He was grateful that his leg had not been casted but it hadn't been easy _**not**_ to put weight on the leg. Now it was time to get some muscle tone back.

"Detective Williams, good to see you. I'm Lanie, and I will be your therapist for the next few weeks. Shall we begin?" The elderly woman greeted him.

Danny looked at his therapist and asked himself how this was fair. Steve got a beautiful young woman as a therapist, one in which he had no interest whatsoever, and Danny, free as a bird, got his own grandmother.

"Uh, yeah, sure."

"Good. Follow me, I'll show you what we're going to do first," Lanie told him as she waited for him to get up.

Danny struggled a little getting onto his feet without actually putting his foot down, but he managed and soon he was hobbling after the therapist with the aid of his crutches.

H50 – H50 – H50

Steve had to grin despite the pain his therapist was just inflicting on him. Lanie was a really nice person, and Steve had known her for a few years now. She had helped him after he broke his arm during the fall at the petroglyphs and had shown him a few great exercises for his wrist after the cast came off. She was funny and had always managed to brighten his day.

Steve knew that Danny was in good hands with her, but he also knew that she was not what Danny had hoped for.

"Argh," Steve couldn't stop the cry from slipping out when Jolene moved his shoulder backwards.

"I'm sorry, Steve. I know it hurts, but we have to encourage the blood flow around the joint and this is the best way to do that. It will decrease the pain in the long run."

"Should I do this at home?" Steve asked while trying to ignore the intense pain still radiating through his shoulder, down his back and along his arm.

"No, absolutely not. You could do more damage to your still healing shoulder. This is only to be done with very controlled movements. So, don't try this on your own," Jolene told him as she eased his shoulder into gentle rotations.

The new movement was more bearable, but it still hurt. But that was something Steve had lived with for the last three weeks. Every little movement of his shoulder hurt even more since he had stopped taking the prescription pain killers on a regular basis a few days ago. Now, he only took one after therapy. After one of these sessions the pain was just too bad to get by without the meds. Pain control was important for the healing process, so he took the pills if necessary, but no longer on a schedule; only as needed. Which was still too often for his liking.

H50 – H50 – H50

Danny cursed under his breath. He had thought as soon as he was allowed to put weight on his leg he would start to walk around more easily. But the opposite was the case. With his crutches he could go from A to B pretty quickly, but now he was slower than a snail.

"Remember to lift the crutches always together with your bad leg. Never the other way around. Put the crutches and your leg down at the same time," Lanie was telling him for at least the tenth time.

Danny felt kind of stupid not getting the coordination right. He had no trouble walking on crutches with his foot in the air all the time, but suddenly he was supposed to put his foot down. "Sorry," Danny apologized for again forgetting to put his foot on the floor.

"That's okay, Danny. It takes a few hours to change what you have been doing for the last three weeks. You're doing really good. Keep going," Lanie encouraged him.

"Yeah, D, looks good," Steve told him from behind.

"What are you doing here? Go harass someone else," Danny told him with a smile in his voice. He had seen Steve hobbling over in the big mirror the one wall was made of.

"No can do, no one here but you," Steve said as he carefully sat down and stretched his leg out. He looked like he was glad to be off his feet again.

"You okay?"

"Uh huh," Steve said, but Danny could clearly see the pain in his eyes. He bet his idiotic partner didn't bring his pain medication with him. "If you keep that up, D, you won't need your crutches anymore," Steve told him and motioned to his slow walk.

Danny only snorted at that. He felt a long way from walking without the aids. "Right."

"What? Your doc said the bones are healing really well. And that you should soon be back on your feet. I'm sure Lanie will agree." Steve smiled at his former therapist. "How is your grandson, Lanie?"

"He's in school now, but he's struggling a bit. He doesn't like it much, but hopefully, that will change."

"He's a bright young boy, I'm sure he will do fine," Steve said, remembering the little boy he had met one afternoon.

"He is very clever, but thinks that school is boring and stupid," Lanie told them with a laugh. "Detective, I think this is enough for today. Remember, if you feel pain when putting weight on your leg, you're putting too much on it. Got that?"

"Yes, ma'am." Danny looked at Steve and seeing him grinning, he thought that Steve was enjoying this way too much.

"I'll see you again in two days, Detective. And practice walking. We will do some strengthening exercises next time. You will like it."

"I doubt that," Danny muttered under his breath.

"What was that?"

"I have no doubt, ma'am." Danny looked at her with the most innocent look he could master, ignoring the suppressed snort from behind.

"Good, good. It was nice to see you again, Steve. Even though I told you to keep out of trouble," she told him with a twinkle in her eyes.

"I tried my best."

"Well, that was obviously not enough. You two boys take care and I'll see you in a couple of days."

With that she was gone and left Steve and Danny to their own devices.

"Steve?"

"Yeah?" Steve looked curiously at Danny.

"Seriously, how are you? How bad is it?"

"Danny, I will be okay. Really. Stop feeling guilty every time you look at me."

"Well, it's a bit hard when it is so obvious how much pain you are in. I'm so sorry, Steve."

"Danny, if you don't stop this, I will not go to therapy with you anymore. It hurts to move the arm, okay? It _**really**_ hurts when Jolene does it, but it _**will**_ get better, so stop beating yourself up." Steve was very close to yelling at his friend.

"Okay. Jeez, I only wanted to know how my friend was. But can the moron give me an answer like a normal human being? No, of course not. Fine, I won't ask again."

They both knew that Danny would ask about his well-being as soon as Steve so much as grimaced a little.

H50 – H50 – H50

"Danny!"

"What?"

"Where the hell have you been?" Steve looked across the table at his friend and again wondered what he had been thinking about. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Danny assured Steve and the others who were looking at him in concern. "So, you went to dinner with Joe?"

"What?"

"Your story. Continue," he prodded, motioning with his hand. "In D.C. you went to dinner with Joe. Come on, that story is not at an end, is it? I mean at least tell us about Catherine calling you. And how and when you got better. I'm sure a lot more happened in Washington than you are telling us."

"Not really," Steve said with a grin remembering Catherine's phone call when they had come back from dinner at Hong's.

_**Washington D.C. – Steve's apartment**_

"You should get that," Joe told him as they made their way back into Steve's apartment after spending two hours grazing at the dinner buffet at Hong's Palace.

"Yeah," Steve took his phone out of his pocket and seeing the caller ID, smiled as he answered. "McGarrett."

"Hello, Sailor. Can you talk?"

"Yeah. Hi, Catherine," Steve answered as he wheeled into the bedroom to have at least a little privacy.

"How was your day with your friend?"

"Good. Listen, I'm sorry I forgot that he wanted to come by. I'm sorry I put you into an awkward position."

"That's okay, Steve. Really, it was fine. Do you have anything planned for tomorrow?" Cath asked.

"Uh, no, not really. Why?"

"How do you feel about getting out?"

"Out? Where?"

"That's a surprise. But I promise you will like it."

"I don't like surprises much. What did you plan?"

"Steve, if I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise," Cath laughed into the phone. "Please say yes. Unless you don't feel well, then we could stay at your place."

"No, I'm fine. Okay. Surprise me," Steve told her, already smiling about the prospect of seeing her again tomorrow.

"Good. I'll pick you up at nine. Be ready. Casual clothing. See you then."

She didn't even wait for his reply but ended the call. Steve stared at the phone for a moment and wondered what he had gotten himself into.

H50 – H50 – H50


	9. Chapter 9

_**Thank you all for reading. There are notes at the end of the chapter. And please be warned, this is the fluffiest piece I have ever written. ;-)  
**_

* * *

**Purple Heart – Chapter 9 **

Steve looked at Catherine who was concentrating on the traffic on the George Washington Memorial Parkway. He had to smile about her reluctance to tell him where they were going. She had picked him up half an hour ago, and after stowing his wheelchair into the trunk of her Jetta they were on their way. But they were pretty much stuck in traffic after just five minutes.

"I'm sorry, Steve. I thought it would be a good idea to take the car instead of the Metro. I didn't anticipate this kind of traffic."

"Don't worry, it's fine," Steve assured her for the second time since they had left his home. "You're still not gonna tell me where we're going?" Steve was still curious about what she had planned.

"Nope," she answered and looked at him with a grin. "Is your friend still in D.C.? I hope I didn't cut into your time with him?"

"No, he had another meeting and his flight is at 1130 hours anyway. Besides I wanted to meet with you today," Steve told her as he shifted in his seat to get more comfortable.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. My leg is just a bit restless, but it's okay. Don't worry about it."

"You'd tell me if you were in pain and needed a break, would you?"

"Uh huh," Steve said and thought _not in this lifetime_. "Really, my leg's fine." That actually wasn't a lie; his leg was relatively fine; his head on the other hand was a different matter.

He'd woken up again with a bad headache this morning. The Tylenol he had taken still had to make an impact. So far it hadn't done much for him.

"I hope you're hungry. You will get the best breakfast you've ever had."

"I could eat." He'd only had an apple this morning when he'd taken his medication for the vertigo, and he had to eat something to keep his blood sugar up after taking the meds. "So, we're having breakfast, and then?"

Cath only laughed at him. "Patience, Steve. Or is that a foreign concept for you?"

"For your information, I can be very patient, if I have to," Steve told her in mock seriousness.

"Oh really? Could have fooled me."

"Ha. Ha," Steve told her and couldn't quite keep the smile in. "I just don't like surprises," he added.

"If you really want, I'll tell you." Cath looked at her companion for an answer.

"No, I will wait," Steve told her with a dramatic undertone.

Finally the traffic started to roll again and five minutes later they were practically in the middle of Alexandria. Cath obviously knew where she wanted to go and parked in a parking structure not far from the water front.

Steve got out of the Jetta while Cath got his wheelchair out of the trunk. He had to wait a minute for her to get it out and ready to sit in. Steve stood next to the car and kept his balance by holding on to the open door.

"You need help?" Steve called out to her.

"No. Sorry, I'll be right there," came her answer from behind the open trunk.

Steve's right leg was not willing to bear any weight today, but his left one was working perfectly, so he didn't have much trouble standing and waiting for her. He smiled at her when she came around, pushing his wheelchair toward him.

"Thank you," Steve said as he seated himself in the chair.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah, fine." Steve rolled back from the car and looked at her. "So, where are we going?"

"You're not giving up, are you?" Cath laughed as she locked the car and turned to Steve.

"Nope," Steve said with a grin and wheeled away from the car. "So, where to?"

A couple of minutes later they stood on the street and Cath motioned to a small coffee shop a short distance away.

Steve wondered how they would get a table; there was already a small crowd waiting outside. It seemed to be a popular place. But Cath had obviously thought about that and they simply went past the waiting guests and were seated in a matter of minutes.

"Cath, this is amazing," Steve told her while he looked in amazement at the place. "I had no idea."

Steve would never have guessed that the very small restaurant opened up at the back and had a rather big patio with dozen of tables right above the Potomac. They had a beautiful view over the river.

"So, you like it?" Catherine seemed unsure of it.

"Of course I like it. This is a great place."

"And the food is even better."

Twenty minutes later it was proved to Steve that the food was indeed great. Even though he was a little worried that he might get sick if he ate too much, Steve had ordered a big breakfast with French Toast, eggs, bacon and fruit salad.

"Do you come here often?" Steve asked between bites of syrup covered pieces of the sweet egg bread.

"Not as much as I like," Cath told him. "Lana told me about it. Her uncle bought the place a few years ago and turned it into this restaurant."

"Who is Lana?"

"The ensign I work with."

"Ah," Steve said absentmindedly. He was just concentrating on getting past a minor case of vertigo.

"Steve, are you okay?" Of course Cath had noticed that her friend was suddenly kind of absent.

"Yeah. Sorry, just a little dizzy. It will pass."

"Okay."

Steve could see that she was not convinced, but was happy that she let it rest and didn't badger him with an overly concerned behavior. He really liked that in her. Besides he would be fine in a minute. It was a rather mild case and he already felt better.

"Steve?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I ask you a rather personal question?"

"Uh, yeah, sure." Steve looked at her curiously.

"Why did you become a SEAL, was that some kind of boyhood dream?" Cath asked him with a smile, thinking about Steve as a little boy.

"No," Steve slowly answered. He thought a moment about how to answer that question. "I… when I was about ten I decided to become a scientist. I was fascinated by chemistry and physics, and everything associated with it. I couldn't get enough of finding out how everything worked."

"So, you were a geek?" Cath asked in surprise. "I figured you more for a quarterback or something like that."

"I was," Steve said with a laugh. "And I was the quarterback, not a bad one actually. But my sport never kept me from loving the science classes."

"So what changed?"

"When I was 15 my mother died in a car crash."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Steve," Cath told him with compassion in her voice.

"It's okay; it was a long time ago. My dad… well, I guess he was overwhelmed, he sent us away to the mainland."

"Us?"

"My sister and me," Steve told her. "Mary was sent to live with relatives, and I was shipped off to the Army-Navy Academy."

"That must have been a cultural shock."

"You have no idea," Steve told her, remembering the time back then well. "I had not been prepared for military life. I had struggled for a long time. Coming from the laid back life of the islands to the academy was… suddenly everything was so controlled and in order." Steve had to grin at thinking how much of a control freak he now was. "It was really hard in the beginning. I had had no intention of joining the military, and if my mother hadn't died I would never have joined the Navy or even left the islands. At least I don't think so."

"But you obviously adapted and then decided to become a member of a special forces team?"

"Well, I figured out rather quickly that it would be a real challenge to even get into Annapolis. They actually offered a great curriculum, and I was totally surprised how much they stressed the importance of good grades. They are very strict about that; if you can't cut it in your chosen field, you're out."

"So, you were challenged on a scientific basis?"

"Yeah, you could say that. Next to all the nautical stuff, sports and training we had to do, it was really hard to study for all of it."

"That still doesn't explain why you chose to become a SEAL," Cath reminded him of her first question.

"I struggled with the decision what to do. SEALs are a pure combat unit. When engaged, they are swift, precise and deadly. I was not sure if I wanted that, or if I could do that. But the challenge of it won out and so I tried out for it, and, well, here I am."

"I'm glad," Cath smiled as she told him.

"So, what about you?" Steve asked, but before she could answer they were interrupted by a loud voice.

"Catherine!"

They both looked startled at the man coming over to them.

"Luces," Cath said under her breath with resignation in her voice.

"So, this is why you didn't want to meet with me today," Luces Tate said and motioned to Steve in obvious disgust.

"Luces, I told you I'm not interested in going out with you."

It was obvious to Steve that this was not the first time Cath had to tell him no. "I think that is your cue to leave," Steve said.

"You, whoever you are, are not going to tell me what to do," Tate said and sat down at their table.

"Don't make a scene. Leave now," Catherine told him calmly.

"Or what?"

"Catherine asked you to leave; I suggest you do so," Steve said as he wheeled back from the table.

"Am I supposed to be scared now?" Luces laughed at Steve.

"No, you're just supposed to leave," Steve told him with a still calm voice.

Tate turned to Cath, "Are you serious? You prefer this guy over me? I bet he can't even—"

Luces looked in complete shock at Cath who had just slapped him in the face.

"Shut up and leave now," her voice was very low but carried across the deadly quiet room.

"You will regret this," Tate addressed Steve, stood up from his chair and while doing so pushed Steve out of the way and stormed out of the restaurant.

"I'm sorry, Steve. I don't know how he knew I'd be here. You okay?"

"Fine," Steve answered and wheeled back to the table. "Has he been harassing you for long?"

"No, he just doesn't understand the meaning of no. But until now he has been rather nice," Cath told him, shaking her head while sitting back down at the table.

"Where do you know him from?"

"I met him at the gym about three weeks ago. I never went out with him and made it clear that I was not interested."

"Sorry you have to deal with such a jerk," Steve told her and hoped the guy didn't mean any future trouble for her.

"I can handle him, don't worry."

"Okay." Steve grinned at her and was pretty sure she knew how to handle most everyone.

"Are you ready to leave?" Cath motioned to his empty plates.

"Oh, you have something else planned?"

"Day's still young, and I'm sure you will love what I have planned," Cath told him with a smile.

"You were right, this is great," Steve told Cath ten minutes later as they made their way into the Torpedo-Factory. "Do you know any history of the place?" he asked.

"Yeah, it's really neat. During WW2 it was a real torpedo factory, hence the name, but was later turned into the Art Center. It now has three floors with art shops, the museum and a coffee shop. There is a tour around the museum in a few minutes if you are interested?" Cath looked at Steve in the hope he liked her plan.

"Yeah, sounds good. But first I need to use the restroom." Steve had looked for the signs for them, but hadn't seen any. He just hoped they had a restroom accessible with a wheelchair.

"They are on the third floor, same as the museum," Cath told him and led the way to the elevator.

Ten minutes later they met again in the part that housed the museum and started their tour.

H50 – H50 – H50

Steve looked at Cath and had to smile despite the severe headache he had had for almost an hour. It had been present in the background all day, but had been really bothering him for the past hour. He felt slightly dizzy and the hammering in his head seemed to get worse by the minute.

They had spent a great day at the center, visiting lots of art shops, and having fun all around. Now they were sitting on the ground floor listening to a Jazz concert.

Steve winced when the music got louder yet again, and he was not sure how much longer he could take it.

"Steve, isn't this great?" Cath leaned over and beamed at him, oblivious to his distress. "I love this music."

"Yeah, they are good."

"Good? They are great!"

"Uh huh," Steve told her with a forced smile. He loved seeing her so enthusiastic and decided he would endure this a little bit longer. But his resolve was crushed when the sax guy started playing his solo.

"Catherine?"

"Yeah?" Cath turned to her friend and it seemed like she suddenly realized that something was not quite right. "Are you okay?"

"Can we please go outside for a while?"

"Of course. What's wrong? You feel okay?" Cath was now really looking at him and could see that he was rather pale and in obvious pain.

"It's too loud and is giving me a major headache. Sorry." Steve didn't want to ruin her fun, but he couldn't stay a minute longer.

"That's okay, let's get out of here." Cath did something she hadn't done before, she pushed his wheelchair. And Steve actually let her.

They made their way outside and Cath only stopped when they had reached the promenade that went along the whole waterfront. She 'parked' the wheelchair and sat across from Steve on the low wall that lined the promenade.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ruin your fun. You can go back inside if you like; I'll just wait here for a bit."

"Don't be ridiculous. Do you have any painkillers you could take?" Cath looked at Steve and could see that he was not feeling good.

"I'd rather not, they make me kind of loopy," Steve told her as he closed his eyes. Even though he didn't want to take anything stronger than Tylenol he already knew that he had no choice if he didn't want to keel over.

"Yeah, well, you look like that is just what you need right now. Take them, Steve, and then we will go back to your place. If you feel better, well, we'll think of something to do, if not you can at least lie down," Cath tried to convince him of her plan.

Steve highly doubted that he would be good for anything other than lying down and sleeping when they got home. But a guy could hope, so he just smiled at her suggestion and took his pain medication.

An hour later, Steve was softly snoring in his bed. Cath was seated beside him, smiling down at him, her hand rubbing his arm. He had insisted she didn't need to stay, but she wanted to do so… just for a little while… to make sure he was really all right. Despite the incident with Luces and that they had to leave the concert, she had had a really good time and didn't want to leave him just yet. When she had whispered that she was staying, he had given her a lazy, sleep glazed grin and had scooted to make room for her on the bed. Catherine glanced at the clock and then yawned, deciding a nap didn't sound half bad. She lay down and cuddled up next to him, placing her arm across his chest. He nuzzled against her hair in his sleep and she smiled.

She could get used to this.

H50 – H50 – H50

* * *

**A/N**: My assumption that Steve didn't want to become a SEAL since he was a little boy is based on episode 13 back from season 1.

_"I would never have left the island, I would never have joined the Navy. Missed every holiday, every birthday, half of Mary's life. The day that car exploded? That made me who I am." _Steve tells Danny in the car after leaving Mamo in 1x13 Ke Kinohi (The Beginning).

What do **_you_** think Steve would have become if his mother wasn't a spy and faked her own death. What would have become of little Stevie in a normal household? Let us know.

And please remember when Steve was talking to Catherine he had NO idea about Wo Fat or that his mother's car accident was not just that.

About the Torpedo Factory – that is a real place in Alexandria. It is really great, and I loved it. I'm sure Steve would like it too, so he had to spend a day there. But I'm pretty sure he didn't mind that much. :-)

And please don't forget to thank Cokie316 for the last scene. She insisted that after such a fluffy day Cath couldn't leave and it was her doing that she stayed. She made them snuggle up. And to be honest, I love her thinking. So, if you liked it, give your thanks to her.


	10. Chapter 10

**Purple Heart – Chapter 10**

"Good morning, Steve. The CO wanted to see you as soon as you're in," Peter informed him when Steve wheeled into their office.

"Morning. Did he say what about?" Steve asked while turning around.

"Nope, just to go see him right away."

"Oh, okay."

Steve wheeled out and down the hallway to his CO's office, where he was told to wait a few minutes. Steve hoped he wouldn't be sent home again. He felt pretty good, especially since he now had some kind of control over his right leg back. This morning he had PT and his therapist, Amy, was very pleased with him.

The session had been painful, and he had to take one of his prescription pills afterwards to be able to come to work. Even after the medication took effect his leg was still hurting. But in general he felt better than he had since the injury happened.

"Lieutenant McGarrett, you can go in now," the petty officer told Steve.

"Thank you," Steve said and wheeled through the door that was opened by the yeoman.

Steve was surprised to see Catherine sitting in front of the commander's desk.

Steve's first thought was, _Crap! Did someone see us yesterday? _

"Lieutenant, please come in. Good to see you looking better." Commander Brennan motioned for Steve to take his place next to Catherine.

Steve greeted his CO and nodded to Cath sending a questioning look in her direction.

"Have you met Lt. Rollins, Steve? She is one of our analysts in section three."

"Yes, we have met," Steve answered and worked hard to keep the grin in. "Nice to see you again, Lt. Rollins."

"Likewise, Lt. McGarrett," Cath answered with a smile.

"Sir, you wanted to see me?" Steve turned back to his CO. He put his hand on his thigh to keep the leg from trembling too much. He still got muscle spasms which were very annoying, even though they weren't that painful anymore. Today they were probably caused by the intense PT he had earlier, and today they _**were**_ painful.

"Yes, I did. I was just talking to Lt. Rollins and telling her that I think it would be a good idea for the two of you to work together."

_Well, this looks promising, _he thought to himself. "Are you reassigning me, Sir?" Steve asked in hope. His current job might have some purpose, even though he didn't see what that might be; it was more than boring. And Steve was sure anything else would be more interesting… especially if Catherine was involved.

"I know you feel rather useless at your current post, no matter how often I have told you that your work is important," Brennan told him with not quite a straight face. "But I think you could be more productive and contribute a great deal working with Lt. Rollins."

"May I ask what Lt. Rollins is doing, Sir?"

"Lieutenant?" Brennan looked at Cath and motioned for her to explain.

"We are sorting through all the data we receive from various sources out in the field. Right now we are trying to find out about a group of rebels who have planted dozen of bombs, and killed or injured a lot of people. They are a threat to our troops. It's practically what you guys do on site, just that we are doing it from here," Cath explained her current job.

Steve thought that they were not doing the same thing by a long shot, but kept his mouth shut. No need to tell her that her risk at being shot at or blown up by said bombs was pretty low.

"And what do you expect me to do?"

"I'm sure you could easily identify if the targets where hit by the same group or not. I imagine you have encountered some of the insurgents and had the opportunity to interrogate them?"

"That is classified," was Steve's automatic answer. He had no idea what he could share with these people. They might be Naval Intelligence, but his missions were mostly highly classified. Most of the time they were not even there 'officially'. Before he could share any of his knowledge he needed to get orders from a higher up than Commander Brennan.

"Lieutenant, you don't have to share anything right now. You will get your orders this afternoon, and I'm sure they will tell you what you can disclose, and how far our clearance will go," Brennan told him, obviously knowing what Steve's concerns had been. "This is just a briefing about what you're going to do from tomorrow on."

"Yes, Sir."

"Good. If you don't have any questions, Lt. Rollins will show you your new office. Dismissed."

H50 – H50 – H50

Cath and Steve left and went to Catherine's office that was located a floor down. When they were in the elevator, she turned to Steve.

"How are you doing this morning?" She asked as she laid her hand on his shoulder.

"Good. PT was a bit rough, but I'm good," Steve told her. The pain in his leg was lessening a bit more and the trembling had stopped a few minutes ago, so he was feeling okay right now. "Do you think we should have told him that we know each other not _**just**_ from work?"

"You think? I mean you are not my superior officer, at least I don't think you are." Cath looked a bit unsure all of a sudden. "That would be a problem, but I think we're okay."

"Huh. I do have seniority, so technically I outrank you and we are in the same chain of command. But this is only temporary anyway. Being here in your office I mean. So maybe we should just keep quiet about it?"

"It's not like we will do it in the elevator, or anything. I mean I can keep my hands off you while working," Cath told him smirking.

"What? You think I can't? Well, Lieutenant, challenge accepted," Steve told her with a grin.

They switched into professional mode as soon as the door opened and made their way over to Catherine's office that she shared with her young colleague, Ensign Dana Lane.

"Dana, this is Lt. McGarrett. He will be working with us for a few weeks." Catherine introduced Steve to the ensign. "Steve, meet Ensign Dana Lane."

"Sir, it's a pleasure to meet you. I've heard a lot about you," Lane said with a smile.

"Really? And please call me Steve." He looked at Catherine and wondered what she had told her about him. They had only known each other for a few days. Seeing her blushing and not making eye contact, he realized Lane was referring to 'girl talk' and not anything even remotely professional. That made him smile even more.

"Steve, you can take the desk over there. If we pull it a little more into the room you should have enough room to maneuver pretty freely," Cath said and motioned to the desk standing along the window. It was a bit close to the back wall, but if they would pull it forward to the door it would be a perfect place for a person in a wheelchair.

"That will work. Thank you. Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," Cath answered and looked curiously at Steve.

"Why do you have your own office? I mean normally you, as a lieutenant and Dana as an ensign would be working out of an open space office."

"We have a lot of sensitive material as hardcopies here, so we needed more space than just a cubicle, and we needed the security for it. So here we are," Cath told Steve. "That reminds me, we need to give you access to the finger print panel. I'm going to call one of the admins to get you into the system."

"Thanks. So, I guess I should get back upstairs, clear my desk out and wait for you to get clearance to talk to me," Steve told them with a laugh.

"That's okay, we didn't expect you to come here before tomorrow anyway. I'll clear out my desk, so you can have it," Cath told him.

"I can take the other one, you don't have to clear out because of me." Steve didn't want to be a bother to anyone.

"Nonsense, you need the extra room. It's okay, really, don't worry." Cath looked at Steve and hoped he was okay with it.

"Okay, thanks."

Cath put the phone back on the cradle in frustration, she had been trying to get in contact with the computer guys while they were talking, but without much luck. "Dana, can you go down please, and tell them to put Lt. McGarrett into our door pad?"

"Yes, of course. Be right back," Ensign Lane said and was already half out the door.

Cath watched her leave and then turned back to Steve who was looking at her cluttered desk. "Hey, are you okay? You've gone a bit pale in the last minutes."

Steve had been fighting a case of vertigo for a few minutes now, and could feel how his blood pressure was going down. He had hoped not to be so obvious, but Cath had a good eye for such things. "No… I'm not feeling so good… I'm really dizzy." _Oh shit_, Steve thought as his vision grayed at the edges. This was something he really wanted to avoid, and normally the pain killer helped to keep his BP up after he worked hard at one of his physical therapy sessions. But it seemed that it failed this time. "I need to lie down…"

Steve had already got out of his wheelchair and was sliding down onto the floor, to the astonishment of Cath, who was not sure what was happening.

"I'm calling 9-1-1." Cath had the phone in hand to call their own paramedic team.

"NO… I'll be fine… can you put… my legs up?" Steve closed his eyes and took deep breaths. It was the first time in two weeks that it got this bad and he was actually on the verge of passing out.

Cath looked still a bit unsure but did as he asked. She wheeled his chair into the right position and placed Steve's legs onto the seat. He was now in the shock position, but Cath was not sure that would be enough.

She kneeled down next to her friend and gently touched his cheek, "Are you with me? Steve?"

"Yeah… Just give me a minute… I should have gone home after PT…," Steve told her. He was feeling a little better, but he was still worried he would pass out. The room was still spinning and it was making him nauseous. "I'll be okay… my blood pressure just bottomed out…," Steve still had to open his eyes, but he was sure if he did that right now, he would get sick.

"Is there anything I can do? Are you sure I shouldn't call for help?" Cath was not really convinced that her friend would be alright anytime soon.

"Un huh," was all that Steve answered. He was too busy with just breathing to bother with a lengthy answer. His head had started pounding when he lay down on the floor, probably still from the concussion his doctor insisted he suffered Thursday. He had felt fine until later on Sunday, and his head started hurting again after PT. That was one of the reasons he took one of his prescription pain killers.

"Does this happen often?" Catherine asked still stroking his forehead, careful not to touch the bruise on the side of his head.

"In the beginning almost daily. After a while it got better; I passed out the last time about two weeks ago at PT," Steve told her still with his eyes closed. He couldn't remember clearly how it had happened, only that one moment he was walking at the parallel bars and the next he was laying on the floor with his feet propped up.

Normally he had enough warning time and could prevent the actual passing out part. But sometimes it simply happened from one second to the next. The attacks occurred very seldom now, and his doctor was sure they would stop soon. Steve hoped he was right about that.

Thankfully this never happened in a public place or here at work. He had always been at home or at one of his physical therapy sessions. If his doctor found out about this episode Steve was sure he would not be allowed back to work for at least a few days. So best he never found out.

"Maybe you could call Ty so that he can pick me up?" Steve asked.

"Yes of course. Are you sure you can make it home? Steve, I really think we should call for help." Cath again tried her luck. Looking down at her friend, it was clear to her that he was feeling really sick at the moment, and she was sure that he would not be able to get up from the floor.

Steve thought about her words for a moment before he answered. He had been sure that this would pass pretty quickly, but he wasn't feeling better yet. On the contrary, his head hurt a lot more than a few minutes ago, and the vertigo had yet to lessen. "Uhm, maybe they could give me something to get my BP up," Steve told her.

"It will be okay, Steve. I'm sure they can help," Cath assured him as she dialed their medical service.

Not even five minutes later two medics came into the office and took over the scene. Steve told them about his injuries and that this has happened before. He admitted that he wasn't feeling better after a few minutes like he usually did.

"Do you have an emergency medication for when this happens?" one of the medics asked.

"No. It was always better as soon as I lay down. My head really hurts," Steve whispered as an afterthought without opening his eyes.

"You said you suffered a concussion and have a skull fracture?" The medic asked as he waited for the reading from the BP cuff. "Oh, 78 over 50, that is way too low. No wonder you feel this bad. Lieutenant we need to start an IV to get fluids in, and we will take you to the ER."

"No, I'll be fine," Steve weakly protested. He really hated this situation, but also knew that he was in no shape to get up, or leave on his own.

"I'm sorry, but you are not. Just hang in there and let us do our job," the medic told him.

Steve gave up then and let them do whatever they felt necessary. He really did feel like crap. His head was ready to explode, his leg was hurting again, and the room was spinning. Steve wondered for a moment how he ended up in this situation. This morning before PT he had felt really good, after the session not so much, but that was to be expected.

Even half an hour ago he was fine, but now he was going back to the hospital. Damn. And all this in front of Catherine.

"Lieutenant? McGarrett! Are you with us?"

"Hmm," Steve heard the medic talking to him, but didn't really care about it. He knew that should bother him, but somehow he didn't care about that either. The last thing he felt was someone shaking his shoulder, but he was too tired to tell them to stop.

H50 – H50 – H50

* * *

_**What's wrong with Steve? Anything serious? You'll find out soon. **_

_**Thanks for reading. Let me know what you think.**_


	11. Chapter 11

_**Thank you all for reading. I hope I have answered every reviewer in a pm, if I have missed anyone, it was not on purpose. I really greatly appreciate every reader, and also everyone who takes the time to post a review.**_

_**A very special big thank you again to my two incredible betas. Cokie316 and Sherry57. YOU are the best. Sometimes I feel like I totally monopolize your time. Thank you for not telling me to shut up. Yet. LOL**_

* * *

**Purple Heart – Chapter 11**

Steve felt like he was about to hurl, which would be a really bad idea considering that he was not even really awake.

He tried to emerge from the fog that was wading through his brain, but there was nothing that would guide him. He felt lost and confused. Adding to that was the severe vertigo he was experiencing. Steve was pretty sure that he was lying on a stable bed, but he felt like he was free-falling. A completely out of control, endless free-fall.

"Lieutenant!"

"Urgh." Steve was glad to finally have something to concentrate on. Maybe if he followed the voice he would be able to leave the haze behind.

"Come on, McGarrett, open your eyes."

That voice was pretty insistent. And loud. Way too loud. Steve winced when the noise caused the hammering in his head to spike up a notch.

"Lieutenant, as soon as you open your eyes I can give you something for the pain."

That voice really shouldn't have mentioned _**pain**_. As soon as his brain registered the word he became aware of the severe pain in his right leg. Steve was sure he groaned rather pitifully. But the pain also helped him become more alert.

Steve blinked his eyes and tried to get the scene in front of him into focus. Not an easy task with watering eyes.

He tried to grab his hurting leg, but was stopped by a hand holding onto his arm.

"Argh, please…" Steve pleaded, trying to take a deep breath to clear the lingering fog from his head. Not only were his thought processes clouded, but he needed to overcome the extreme nerve pain in his leg.

He heard something about morphine and an IV, and was grateful when the medication worked almost instantly.

The ungodly pain receded to a more bearable level and he started to relax due to the relief the drug brought him.

"Thank you," Steve whispered and finally managed to focus on the scene in front of him.

"Lieutenant, nice to see you back," an Army Captain he never saw before said.

"Uh, what happened?"

"What's the last you remember?" The doctor asked him.

Steve thought that was a really good question, one he wasn't sure he had an answer to. He looked around the room he was in and realized he was actually in a trauma bay in the ER at Walter Reed.

"McGarrett?"

"Sorry. Ehm, I'm not really sure. I was in the office?" Steve answered and voiced it as a question. He was not quite sure what had happened after he was introduced to Ensign Lane.

"Yeah, you were. You passed out. Any memory about that?"

"No?"

"You don't remember that you talked to the EMTs?"

"Ah… no."

"Well, that is not unusual."

That might be, but Steve still found it rather disturbing not remembering what had happened.

"Memory loss is very common in cases like yours," the doctor told him as he scribbled something in the file he was holding. "You don't have to worry about it."

"Cases like mine? I don't understand, and why did my leg hurt so much?" Steve touched his outstretched leg and could feel it trembling. The pain was now dulled by the drugs but it still lurked in the background.

"Colonel Adams will tell you all about it. He will be here in a few minutes, Lieutenant. Try to relax, you will be fine."

"Can't you…" Steve started to ask, but the captain was already on his way out and left the rather confused Steve to his own devices.

That at least gave him time to take stock of his body, now that he was really awake and alert. He now realized that he was undressed and only covered with a light sheet. He started to get cold and wondered where his clothes were. Steve knew of course that it was standard procedure to completely undress an unconscious person coming to the ER. But it still pissed him off that he was stuck in the hospital for now. He could hardly walk out of here without anything on.

Besides he felt way too tired to even entertain the idea of walking out of here right now_. If he could walk that was. Not much of walking going on with him lately_, Steve thought. And of course he had no desire to experience the kind of pain again he had before he got the good drugs. He needed to talk to his doctor about what had brought that on. And of course he needed to find out why he had passed out.

_Catherine. Oh fuck._ He thought about the lieutenant and hoped she didn't freak out about this. Steve thought she didn't seem a person that would lose it, but still he felt bad to have passed out in her office.

His musings were interrupted by a nurse coming into the trauma bay. "Lieutenant, I'm sorry, Colonel Adams was called to an emergency. He will come see you in your room."

"My room? I have to stay?" Steve was not happy with that development.

"Oh, absolutely," the nurse told him with a smile. "I'm here to get you ready to transfer you to your room. Colonel Adams wants some more tests done, so I'm afraid I have to take some blood samples and I brought a cup you need to fill for me." She handed Steve a small specimen cup.

Steve took the cup and looked at her. "What, right now?"

"If you don't mind," she answered as she took the bag with saline from the hook and exchanged it with a new one. "Unless you can't right now?"

Steve actually had to pee, but he for sure didn't want to do it while lying in bed with a nurse standing right next to the bed. "Uhm, can't it wait until I'm in my room?"

"I think that should be fine." The nurse took pity on him and smiled. "An orderly will take you up to your room in a few minutes. I'm just going to draw the blood and then you should be on your way."

"Thank you."

Half an hour later Steve was brought to a room on the fourth floor, and was ordered not to leave the bed until Colonel Adams had spoken to him. But at least one of the nurses gave him sweatpants and a tee-shirt to wear. The older nurse helped him put on underwear and the sweats, and disconnected the IV, so he could put the shirt on.

When he was dressed he was totally drained, and lay back on his bed.

"Before you go to sleep, I still need the sample," Maggie reminded him with a friendly smile and held the urinal out to him.

"Right. Uhm…"

Maggie rolled her eyes at him, but turned around.

It's not like she hadn't just seen him naked, but that didn't mean he could pee with her watching. It took another couple of minutes until Maggie was satisfied with everything and left him alone. Two minutes later he was sound asleep on the bed.

H50 – H50 – H50

Catherine was rather surprised when she entered Steve's hospital room late Monday afternoon. Steve was sitting on his bed and grinned at her when he waved her in.

"Steve, so good to see you looking well again," Cath greeted her new friend.

"Hi, Catherine. Thanks for coming by."

"Of course I'd come by; you had me worried. Are you okay?" Cath asked and leaned in for a sweet kiss.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Told you I'd be okay."

"Right. Just before you passed out. That was really reassuring ."

Steve had the decency to at least blush at that. "Uhm, yeah, well…"

"What did your doctor say?"

"He was not very happy with me," Steve admitted.

"How so?"

"Well… he had told me Friday morning to take it easy over the weekend and not to engage in strenuous activity," Steve told her, still grinning. "And he was really mad that I went to PT this morning."

"Why?"

"Physical therapy was really hard today, and I didn't feel so good afterwards. I had to take a painkiller, and, well, I should have gone home. I didn't tell Amy that I had suffered a concussion and kind of a skull fracture last Thursday," Steve told her reluctantly.

"What?" Cath called out in alarm. She thought his headache on Sunday had been because of the loud noises and that he had overdone it a little, she had no idea that he had gotten hurt again.

"I fell in the Metro station, and hit my head—"

"Lieutenant, you didn't fall, you were knocked out," Dr. Adams said from the door.

Catherine stood immediately when the superior officer entered the room.

"At ease, Lieutenant Rollins. Please stay seated," Adams told her with a smile.

"Yes, Sir," Cath said as she sat back down.

"So, Lieutenant McGarrett, I take it you haven't told your friend about your adventure last week?"

"Ah…"

"Well, I guess you have something to talk about later then," the colonel said. "Now to business. I just wanted to check on you before I leave."

"Why do I have to stay, Sir? I feel fine," Steve asked his doctor, not minding that Cath was sitting right next to him.

"Because, Lieutenant, you passed out this morning and were unconscious for over an hour," Adams told him while shaking his head.

"But, Sir, that was only because I overdid it at PT, and my BP—"

"No. That was not the reason for your black out." Adams looked at Catherine as if he only now realized that he was about to discuss medical issues in front of her. "Lieutenant Rollins, would you give us a few minutes?"

"I don't mind her staying, Sir."

"Okay. McGarrett, I have already talked to your therapist, and trust me, I'm not happy with her either," Adams said and looked sternly at Steve.

"Sir, it was not her fault," Steve defended his therapist. He for sure didn't want to end up on Amy's bad side.

"Yes it was. She had the report of your re-injury. You never should have been allowed to even have PT this morning. I'm sorry I wasn't clear in explaining that to you on Friday. But she had your file and should have only done some very light exercises, if at all."

"I was fine afterwards," Steve again tried his luck.

"I highly doubt that. Lieutenant, there is no shame in admitting to be in pain. I know that your injuries are still very painful."

"Uhm…"

Adams smiled at his patient knowing that he wouldn't get more out of him about how he had been feeling this morning. "Now about why you passed out. I bet you had a really bad headache when you lay down, and that it was even increasing?"

"Uh, yeah. I thought it was because of the PT?"

"Probably from the exertion this morning, yes. Your blood pressure was extremely low when you came into the ER. How much have you had to drink in the last two days?"

"Sir, I didn't drink any alcohol."

"That's not what I meant. You were extremely dehydrated, that combined with the low blood pressure and a very low blood sugar level was what made you pass out," Adams explained to Steve and Cath. "Did you have breakfast this morning?"

"Ah, no. I can't eat before PT. I meant to have breakfast when I came to the office, but then I was called to my CO."

"Lieutenant, you made yourself pretty sick. You didn't hydrate enough, you didn't eat and you put your body through extreme physical stress," Adams said and was looking at Steve with what no one would call a happy face. "I even wonder how you made it this long and didn't pass out right after your therapy session." Colonel Adams shook his head and looked at Steve. "You have to remember that your meds for the vertigo are lowering your blood sugar levels; you have to eat regularly."

Steve thought he better not tell him that it was probably thanks to the pain killer he took shortly after his training session, that he even made it to the office.

"I didn't feel too bad until later, Sir."

"'Not too bad's a very loose term," the colonel said and smiled at Catherine who had listened to the conversation with growing concern.

"Be that as it may, we will keep you overnight." Adams raised his hand to ward off any protest and continued. "We will hydrate you with another bag of saline. Then we will do some tests in the morning, and if I'm satisfied with all of them I will release you."

"So I can go back to work tomorrow?" Steve asked in hope.

"No. You certainly can't go to work," Adams answered exasperated.

"But, Sir, I will only sit in an office and look at photos. I promise to go home if I start to feel bad."

"Lieutenant, why is it so important for you to go back to work?"

"Sir, I go nuts at home doing nothing," Steve admitted not voicing the thought that spending time with Catherine wasn't a bad thing either.

"I can understand that. You have been on sick leave for quite a while now." Adams paused for a moment, "we will see how you're doing in the morning. No promises though. Do you have any other questions?"

"No, Sir… well, um…"

"Go on. You know you can ask me anything."

"Well, yeah, I-ah, I just thought that once my leg started functioning again, the pain would get less. Did I tell you I was able to walk on it this weekend?"

The doctor set aside his chart and gave his patient a piercing look. "No, you didn't. That is excellent news; why did you not mention it?"

"It was Friday night and after everything else, it just sort of slipped my mind. But that's good news, right?"

"Of course. But I should caution you to take it easy. You shouldn't try walking by yourself Lieutenant, you could still fall and hurt yourself further."

"No, I wasn't alone…" He turned and grinned at Catherine, who smiled.

"Colonel Adams, I was with Steve. And we… well, we walked from the couch into the bedroom."

The doctor looked at the two of them. "So, may I deduce that your right leg wasn't the only part of your anatomy that was fully functional on Friday?"

Catherine blushed. As did Steve. But he couldn't wipe the satisfied grin off his face as he looked at the doctor.

Dr. Adams smiled back at them. "You do realize that you are making tremendous progress, don't you, Steve? You need to keep that in mind because I'm sure all you see are the baby steps. You're going to be fine, Lieutenant. Just hang in there. But be smart about it, OK?"

"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir."

Colonel Adams shook his head and left the two alone.

H50 – H50 – H50

Steve was happy to finally be allowed back to work. He had spent a miserable Tuesday in the hospital, after Adams had denied his release in the morning. He had slept till noon, but from then on he had been wide awake and was bored out of his mind in a matter of a couple of hours.

Later in the afternoon Cath had come by, but she had only stayed for about half an hour due to a previous appointment. So Steve had done the only thing that had made any sense, he had asked for a sleeping pill and slept for over 12 hours until early Wednesday morning.

Adams had been very pleased with him and had finally signed his release papers. Of course not without giving him a lecture first.

_As if it had been his fault he had gotten hurt last Thursday._

Shaking his head at the thought, Steve wheeled out of the elevator and over to his new office. He touched the lock-pad, but without any luck. His prints were obviously not in the system yet.

He knocked on the thick milky glass door and waited to be let in. But after a few moments without anything happening and not hearing anything from inside the office it was clear his new colleagues were not in.

Steve thought for a moment what to do and then decided to go see Peter first. He had to clean out his desk anyway.

Ten minutes later he looked at all the stuff that had cluttered his desk drawer in just the few short weeks he had occupied his desk.

Very prominent in there was the small box with the Purple Heart Captain Wilde had awarded him two weeks earlier. Steve was thankful that they hadn't made a big deal out of it. It had just been a really small ceremony in Commander Brennan's office. Captain Wilde from public affairs had presented the medal to him, and that had been it.

"You still have it in your desk?" Peter asked him when he saw the box in Steve's hand.

"It's as good a place as any," Steve said absent mindedly.

"You were awarded that for a reason, you know!" Peter sounded almost angry and his tone made Steve look up.

"I didn't do anything to 'earn' this. I was just at the wrong place at the wrong time."

"No! Every time you put on your uniform you are ready to die for it, and you actually almost did—"

"I didn't mean to belittle that in any way. You know that. I wear my uniform with pride and I do appreciate this honor," Steve said and held up the box with his Purple Heart in it. "It's just that I don't feel like I accomplished anything to earn it. This medal should be awarded to wounded or killed soldiers for their sacrifice, but somehow I feel this was my own fault," Steve admitted.

He had thought about that day quite a lot, and he always thought he had somehow missed something. That he should have seen it coming.

"Steve, that is just ridiculous. You can't blame yourself for it," his teammate for the last few weeks told him.

"I know, but I just… I got away really lucky, you know?"

"Well, looking at you right now, you don't seem so lucky," Peter told him shaking his head.

"Believe me, I am."

H50 – H50 – H50

Steve had put all his belongings in a box and was now wheeling back to his new office, in the hope that Catherine and Dana were back in.

He had wondered for a moment where they had been. And he asked himself if he should have told them beforehand that he would be back to work today.

Before he came to work this morning he had a lengthy phone conversation with his CO, who told him what he was allowed to disclose and what had to stay classified. Now he at least knew what he could talk to Catherine about. And what questions would stay unanswered.

"Lieutenant!"

Steve turned when he heard Catherine calling him. She and Ensign Lane were just stepping out the second elevator.

"Hi," Steve greeted them smiling.

"We didn't expect to see you today," Cath said as she came closer.

"Yeah, well, I was released this morning and Adams said I could come to work. So, here I am. Hope that is not a problem?"

"No, of course not. We're happy to have you," Catherine assured him with a smile.

"I hope you're feeling better, Sir." Ensign Lane greeted him.

"Yes, thank you I do. I'm sorry for all the drama on Monday." Steve knew that is must have been a bit of a shock to come back to the office and finding him unconscious and surrounded by EMTs.

"Glad you're feeling okay, Sir."

"It's Steve, remember?" He told her and turned to Catherine, following her through the now open door. "I talked to my CO, and he cleared me to answer most of your questions."

Steve moved over to his new desk and deposited his box there. He turned around and watched Catherine and Dana doing the same with the two boxes they were carrying.

"What's in the boxes?"

"This is new material we are supposed to screen for hints. I'm not sure yet what it is about or what dates it covers."

"Is that what you normally do, you go through… what are they… pictures?" Steve had no idea what they were really doing so his question was not just out of curiosity; he really wanted to know what kind of information they were talking about.

"Pictures, satellite images, infrared images, witness reports, maps, video surveillance, all sorts of Intel actually. First we need to sort them by date, and then by location," Catherine explained while she put one of the boxes on the floor behind her desk, next to a dozen other boxes. "After we are done with that we go through them day by day. Sometimes a specific day or even a complete box is marked as urgent, like this one." Cath showed him the big red stamp _URGENT_ on the side of the box. "We go through those first."

"So, you spend your day pretty much with looking at pictures and stuff?" Steve asked and again thought that was not even remotely close to what he had been doing out in the field.

"I didn't mean to offend you, you know?"

"What?" Steve looked at Catherine, not sure what she meant.

"In Brennan's office when I said that we're doing the same as you guys, just from behind a desk? I didn't mean to—"

"No, that's okay, Catherine. Really." Steve didn't mean for her to feel bad and hoped he didn't give her any reason to think that he was offended by her remark two days ago. "Your job is very different from how we are gathering Intel, but the end result, getting the information, is the same. It's okay, I know what you meant."

"I know doing the job 'out there' is a lot more dangerous than in here, but I believe this is also important."

"Yes it is," Steve told her. And he meant it. He had looked into Rollins' file and knew that she had served a tour in Kabul. He couldn't find out what she did there and if she had seen any 'action', but it at least meant she had not always been sitting behind a desk.

"So, are you ready to dive in?"

"Yeah, let's start. I might need to leave early though, I'm only cleared for light duty," Steve told her honestly. He hoped that he wouldn't get a headache after a couple of hours of reading, and that he could stay a whole day. Even though that was not what Adams meant with taking it easy. But he was so sick of not being able to work a full day. He was just sick of being sick to put it mildly.

"Okay, you want pictures, reports, or…" She pulled a plastic bag out of the box and added, "We also have video. At least I think that's what's on the flash drives," Cath said as she held up the bag with the six flash drives.

"I'll take the video if that's okay." Watching a video was a lot easier than reading, and doing that would prevent him from getting one of the debilitating headaches.

"Yeah, sure. Dana, you want to take the reports?" Cath knew that her young colleague liked reading a lot more than looking through hundreds of pictures.

"Yes, thank you."

All three of them took their chosen part of the material and went to work on it. Steve sat in front of the high tech computer with a huge screen in front of him. It was almost too big to sit this close. It was one of the new high definition screens, and for a moment he wondered why this office was so well equipped.

He put in the flash drive and waited for the hardware recognition. He only had to wait a moment and a menu popped up with the screen to enter his log-in. After entering his password Steve was directed to a file system with more files than he imagined could be on one of the drives. Looking at all that he wondered if he had spoken too soon about not getting a headache. Just looking at the sheer volume of the files made his head hurt.

One file caught his attention right away; it was from the day he got injured. He double clicked it and saw a dusty scene with someone being prepared to be loaded into a chopper. The scene was obviously from one of the action cams they had on their helmets.

Steve paused the film and wheeled back from the computer, he wasn't sure if he was ready to watch it.

"Steve, are you okay?" Catherine asked him.

"There is…," Steve started to say, but stopped and motioned to the screen instead.

"What?" Cath asked and went over to his desk to take a look at what had her friend spooked. She looked at the crystal clear picture and took in the helicopter, the dust that covered everything, the people bent over a figure lying on the ground, obviously injured and treated by medics.

"That's me."

H50 – H50 – H50

* * *

_**Please don't hate me for the tiny cliffhanger. ;-)**_


	12. Chapter 12

**Purple Heart – Chapter 12**

_**Washington D.C. – Lieutenant Rollins Office**_

Catherine looked at Steve and then back to the screen. She could understand his reluctance to watch the scene in front of them.

"Do you remember any of that?" she softly asked and motioned to the screen.

He slowly shook his head. "No. I have absolutely no recollection of what happened. The last I remember is from about a couple of minutes before the bomb went off. I only know what they told me. My next clear memory is of waking up in Washington. I have some flashes of being in different places during my transport here, but nothing concrete," Steve told her while still staring at the scene in front of them.

"Would you rather not watch it?" Catherine could understand if he didn't want to see himself on the flight that probably saved his life. Who knows what they were about to see.

"No, it's okay, it just caught me by surprise. I didn't expect this," Steve said and wheeled back to the desk, ready to continue the footage.

_**Northern Iraq – March 2006**_

_Petty officer Finn Hutchinson, Hutch to his friends, looked up at the chief who was concentrating totally on squeezing the ambu bag and getting air into his LT's lungs. But he needed him to stop what he was doing. "Chief, stop for a moment," the medic yelled again, and finally Myers seemed to register that he was being addressed by the corpsmen._

_"You have to stop, we need to load him into the chopper," Hutch yelled over the loud noise of the rotors. The pilot didn't power down the engine, he was waiting for them to load the injured in so they could get out of there as soon as possible._

_Hutch took one handle of the metal stretcher they used to transport the injured soldiers from the battle fields and together with the three others they lifted the unconscious lieutenant into the helicopter. _

_One of the other corpsmen took over the ventilation and Hutch closed the sliding door after he almost had to push the Chief out of the chopper. He then switched the head phones on and told the pilot that they were ready for take-off. They were airborne before he had even finished speaking._

_Next he checked his patient; although he didn't dare take the armor off. He didn't want to move him unnecessarily. Hutch was seriously worried about a spinal injury, the non-existing reflexes all pointed in that direction. He only asked himself how far up the injury was. It was not a good sign that the lieutenant had no spontaneous breathing. But that might actually be because of the head injury rather than the injured back._

_Hutch was rather surprised that none of the limbs showed any injuries, no broken bones and no shrapnel wounds. Finally something in the lieutenant's favor. If nothing else they at least didn't have to deal with any gushing wounds. But of course that didn't mean he wasn't bleeding internally. The trauma from the blast could have done a lot of damage. But so far his BP was stable and as far as he could feel, the abdomen was not rigid when he carefully checked beneath the armor. _

_Petty officer Hutchinson was just about to check the shoulders when he could feel the trembling starting and it turned into shaking in a heartbeat._

_"Shit, he's seizing. Secure the tube," he told petty officer Jerry Ringer. He helped him get the bite ring in place that would keep McGarrett from biting down on the breathing tube and cutting off his air._

_The shaking was getting a lot worse and turned into a full blown seizure that lasted over two minutes even with the injected medication. Hutch knew that he was looking at a very serious head injury, not only a concussed brain from the trauma, but most likely intracranial bleeding and skull fractures._

_His patient didn't look like it, but he knew that his chances were pretty slim._

_"You think he's going to make it?" Jerry asked him._

_He only looked at him and shook his head. "Doesn't look good."_

H50 – H50 – H50

_**Washington D.C., Lieutenant Rollins office**_

The room was deadly quiet when the short footage ended.

"You okay?" Catherine softly asked.

Steve could only nod. He had no idea that it had been this bad when he was brought in.

"You wanna take a break, before the next file?"

Steve looked at Catherine and tried to muster a smile, but failed pretty miserably. "Maybe not such a bad idea," he told her.

"Come on, we can go to the cafeteria, their coffee is even drinkable," Cath told him with a smile. "Dana, you wanna come?"

"No, that's okay, you two go. Bring me back a large latte macchiato, please?"

"Yeah. My treat," Steve told her and wheeled out of the office. He was glad to get out of the rather small room for a bit. He felt a bit shaky; seeing those scenes got to him more than he wanted to admit.

"Steve, wait up," Catherine called after him.

Steve hadn't been aware of how fast he had made his way out of the office. He slowed down and turned around. "Sorry," he said when Cath caught up to him.

"You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I just… I just needed some air, you know?"

"Yeah, I can imagine. You want to go outside instead for coffee?"

"No, I'd like a coffee." Steve smiled at her and told himself to pull it together. No need to lose it over some footage of the after effects of the bombing. After all it had happened months ago. "I just need to make a pit stop first."

"Oh, I'll wait in the cafeteria, okay?"

"Yeah, that's fine. See you in a couple of minutes," Steve told her and wheeled to the restrooms at the end of the hallway.

He cursed when he encountered the 'Out of order' sign for the second time since he had been in the Pentagon. _Why the heck are the stalls for the handicapped always out of order?_ He could use the one a floor above, but he was not sure he would make it there in time.

Since he was fairly certain that his right leg would cooperate, he wheeled over to the row of urinals. In the hope that vertigo wouldn't hit him at a very inconvenient moment, he painfully stood up from the wheelchair. It took a moment to find his legs but he made the two steps to his target and braced himself with his left arm against the wall. He chose the last one on the left, so the wall was also next to him. Just in case.

It took a little fumbling to open the stubborn zipper one handed, but he was not willing to let go of the wall support. After a moment he managed and was rather happy to finally be able to relieve himself standing up.

Finished with his business he was glad to sit back down though, vertigo was still lurking in the background whenever he was not sitting. It didn't look like that would stop any time soon.

After washing his hands, he wheeled out of the restrooms with a smile on his face. It was not much for anyone else, but he felt like he had accomplished something rather big just now.

H50 – H50 – H50

Steve looked over at Catherine and wondered if she would be interested in going to a game with him. _You'll never know if you don't ask her. Right?_

"Catherine?"

"Yeah?" Cath absentmindedly stirred her cappuccino and looked in interest at Steve.

"Would you like to come to a basketball game? My team plays on Sunday."

"You play basketball?"

"Oh God, no," Steve exclaimed with a laugh. "No, but I train with them. Amy, my therapist made me go. And besides I wouldn't be allowed to play in the games even if I were any good, which I'm not. I totally suck at it," Steve told her with a chuckle. "But it's good cardio training, and I go whenever I feel well enough to do so."

"Why wouldn't you be allowed to play?" Catherine wanted to know.

"Too dangerous. I couldn't risk falling or getting hit in the head by a ball. But training is very good and fun and I shoot some balls with the guys. Have yet to hit the basket though," Steve admitted sheepishly.

"Ah, come on, I'm sure you're not that bad."

"You haven't seen me play," Steve told her again with a laugh. "Seriously, what those guys can do while in a wheelchair is amazing. It's really difficult to even throw the ball while sitting down. They are really good. So, you wanna come? It will be fun."

"Sure, yeah," Cath agreed and smiled at the happiness she could see on his face.

"What are you laughing at?"

"You. I'm glad you're feeling better now. It must have been a shock to see that footage."

"Yeah, it kinda was. They of course told me how I was treated and all. How they flew me out. But seeing it is very different. I… Somehow that guy we saw… I know it was me… you know, on a deeper level… but it's so strange to see that and not remember any of it."

"You really can't remember anything?"

"No. Colonel Adams said it's perfectly normal not to remember the event that caused the trauma, or an amount of time after or before the event. He said I'm lucky that I can still remember everything up until almost directly before the explosion," Steve explained what his doctor had told him. "He said many are missing many hours or even days before they were hit. I guess I should be happy that I can only remember bits and pieces of the actual explosion. Some things are coming back, but I'm not sure if those are memories or pictures my brain fabricates from what I have learned from my team."

"Have you talked to your team?" Catherine wanted to know.

"Yeah, a couple of times. They were reassigned, but they couldn't tell me what they were doing over a public line."

"Are you going to go back to them, when you're all healed up?"

"I hope so," Steve told her in a rather somber tone.

"Hey, what's the matter?" Of course Catherine caught his change of tone.

"I had a talk with my doctor this morning. It didn't go so well."

"Why? He released you, and allowed you back to work. So, what's the problem?"

Steve looked at Catherine and wondered not for the first time why it was so easy to talk to her, even though he hardly knew her. He still wasn't talking to his therapist who had been trying to get him to open up for the past couple of months. And Catherine was successful in that without even trying. "Adams is concerned that he's not seeing any improvement with the vertigo. And he is right; I still can only stand for a couple of minutes before I get so dizzy that I fall down. I even get vertigo a couple of times every day while sitting. I get severe headaches every day. Sometimes my leg hurts so bad, I… I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…"

"No, it's okay," Cath told him, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand. "I'm glad you're telling me. I know you must be really frustrated, but in the short time since I've met you, you've gotten better. A lot actually. You told me you couldn't move your leg at all. Now you're walking. You told me you couldn't get your body to react to sexual stimuli, and yet we had the most amazing sex," Cath told him in a whisper, making Steve blush. "Remember what Adams told you on Monday. He said you'd be fine. I don't know what he told you this morning, but, Steve, you will be fine. He told you to hang in there. Please just do that. Don't give up."

"That's what he said. He hasn't seen any improvement, but said it could still change," Steve clarified what his doctor had told him. "But it's been so long, you know. And those headaches are really getting to me. But the vertigo is the worst; it keeps me from making real progress. I can only train sitting down, and that isn't getting me closer to my goal of getting out of this fucking chair." Steve was getting very agitated and took a calming breath.

"Hey, Steve, hey it's okay," Cath told him, squeezing his hand again. "Look at me. You will be fine. I've only known you for a few days, but I know you will come out of this on top. Trust me, okay?"

"Okay." For some reason he did trust her on this. He managed a tentative smile and sheepishly said, "Sorry about the tantrum."

"I think you're entitled. Come on, let's get back to work before Dana sends out a search party," Catherine said and stood from the table.

"Okay, but we need to get her that fancy coffee first," Steve said laughing.

"She takes lots of sugar with it," Cath called after him as she took their tray and placed it on one of the trolleys.

A few minutes later they were on their way to look through the rest of the Intel.

H50 – H50 – H50


	13. Chapter 13

_**Sorry guys, a day late. My fault, no excuse. Hope you will enjoy the chapter.**_

* * *

**Purple Heart – Chapter 13**

_**Washington D.C. – American University – 2006**_

The remaining days of the week passed in a blur and after going to work, filtering through hundreds of video segments, thankfully not stumbling over another one with him as the main actor, and doing his physical therapy, Steve was more than happy to have reached Sunday.

Steve leisurely leaned against the wall and grinned at Catherine who looked at him open mouthed.

"What… How… I mean…" It was obvious that Cath was a bit too puzzled for words.

"I think this is my cue to leave you alone," Ty, who stood next to Steve, said. "Call me if you need me earlier than ten."

"Will do, and thank you, Ty." Steve was more than thankful for his friend's help. He had not only picked him up, but had also waited patiently with him until Cath arrived. "Just in case" he had said.

Ty waved his good-bye and was gone.

"You walked here?" Cath asked after she had greeted him properly.

"Yeah. I hope that's okay? I'm not the fastest walker at the moment. And maybe you could stick close by?" Steve asked her a bit sheepishly.

"Of course. Steve, this is great. Just tell me if you need me to do anything," Cath told her friend and stepped even closer. She was very happy that he was standing; she just hoped it was not too much for him. "So, I take it your wheelchair is at home?"

"No, in the cab. This was a spur of the moment decision. I haven't been dizzy all day, and I feel really good right now, so I thought I'd give it a try," Steve explained why he was not using his chair right now. "Tyrese will bring the chair when he picks us up. I don't think I'll be able to stay upright longer than a few hours," Steve said and pushed away from the wall.

He grabbed on to Cath's arm, silently asking for permission. Seeing her smiling he leaned on her for support.

"So, would you like a drink before the game? We still have about an hour. They have a good restaurant on the upper floor. You can look down to the field from there," Steve explained.

"Yeah, I'd like that," Catherine said and guided Steve towards the elevator, sure that he didn't want to tackle the stairs.

H50 – H50 – H50

Steve had to grab the handrail in the elevator when the cabin started to move. The balance disorder kicked in and he felt a little like falling.

"You okay?" Cath asked and tightened her grip on his arm.

"Yeah," Steve told her. And so far he was not dizzy, just a bit unsteady. "I'm okay, just a little lightheaded," Steve added and smiled reassuringly at Cath. At least he hoped it looked reassuring.

A moment later they reached the upper floor and stepped out of the elevator.

The area was pretty busy with lots of people milling around, waiting for the game to start. It made Steve a little uneasy to be surrounded by so many people. He knew that bumping into anyone would leave him sprawled on the floor.

It was hard enough to hold his balance with his hurt leg and the hovering vertigo, being pushed would not end well.

"The restaurant is that way," Steve said and motioned to their left. "It overlooks the main arena; our game will be in the second, smaller one. Seeing all these people I guess there will be a game here as well."

They made their way through the crowd slowly, but without incident. And they were in luck and were shown to a table right away.

"So what have you been up to since Friday?" Catherine asked after they sat down at one of the tables at the window wall overlooking the court.

"Not much really. Friday was filled with PT, and after that I was practically dead to the world. Saturday was a slow day, I only had water therapy, which is really relaxing," Steve recounted his time since they had last seen each other. "How was your meeting yesterday?"

"Really nice, thank you. I haven't seen Tim in a few years. He was in D.C. only for two days, so I'm really happy that we could meet."

"He is an old friend?"

"Yeah, we went to school together in our senior year. He had great plans when he was young," Cath told him smiling and thinking about her high school boyfriend.

"And…?"

"Well, he's married with four kids, and lives in Wisconsin on a farm," Cath said with laughter in her voice. "Not what he imagined, but he seemed really happy."

"Why was he in Washington?"

"He attended a convention on Friday, flew home late last night. Now enough about Tim, let's talk about you." Cath abruptly changed the topic.

"What about me?" Steve looked at her in surprise.

"You promised to tell me about your dad and sister. And your mom," Cath added as an afterthought.

"Guess I did promise something like that," Steve said and thought about what to tell her.

H50 – H50 – H50

_**McGarrett's home, present time**_

"Wait a minute, you told Catherine your life story during your first week together? And we had to drag every little bit of information out of you?" Danny interrupted Steve's storytelling.

"Uhm… and your point is?" Steve looked at his friend.

"My point? My point, my friend, is that you keep all your personal stuff close to your chest, but told Catherine every little detail within minutes of meeting her?" Danny asked agitated.

"First of all, it wasn't within minutes, and second… she had asked nicely," Steve told his friends with a grin.

Danny snorted at that and even Max chuckled at the implication that Danny obviously didn't ask nicely.

"Besides you knew a lot about me by the second day, you had pulled my file," Steve said, directing his comments to Danny.

"As if that did me any good. The only thing in your file is the overuse of the word 'classified'," Danny told Steve in mock anger.

"So, you _**did**_ pull my file?" Steve laughed at Danny.

"Ha ha, very funny. You know I did."

Steve looked at his friend and remembered the night he found out that someone had tried to access his military file. Not very successfully, as it turned out. Steve had never told Danny that he had been informed by his former CO that an HPD detective had requested his file but was only granted access to the basic information about him.

"So, I guess it was not really what you wanted to learn?" Steve asked.

"No, it was not. I mean, come on you can't really blame me." Danny turned to his friends sitting at the table. "I had my peaceful life on this godforsaken island, doing my thing with HPD and then this lunatic here came along," Danny said and motioned to Steve who only grinned. "He stole my case, highjacked me and pulled me into his 'investigation'." He used air quotes to show what he thought of that investigation. "Which I might add was more than questionable."

"What are you talking about?" Steve interrupted.

"I'm talking about your screwed understanding of police protocol, and your nothing-will-stop-me mentality of the early days," Danny told him smugly.

"That 'nothing-will-stop-me' mentality has saved my life a few times. Besides, you don't want to talk to me about protocol, do you?" Steve challenged Danny.

"Guys! Really, will you please not start that discussion again?" Chin interjected before their argument could get out of hand.

"Chin, I take it they have had this discussion before?" Doris wanted to know.

"Oh, you can say that," Chin told her with a smile.

"I actually find that rather odd, Steve always followed protocol while on active duty," Catherine added with a grin.

"Only when I had to. It's important that the team plays by the same rules, but sometimes you just have to bend the rules a little. But, Danny, when did I last break protocol?"

"Uhm, okay, I'll give you that," Danny answered him with a laugh, but was obviously not finished. "But you were still a lunatic when we met."

"Yeah, well…" Steve had to admit that his methods back then could be called a bit unorthodox, but that was because he first had to adjust to a more civilian form of investigating.

"But Danny, you must admit, we did get results," Chin added in defense of his boss.

"That we did," Danny agreed and he was more than willing to say that they were a great investigative unit, even though it took some time to get used to Steve's unusual thinking.

He looked over at his friend and watched him shifting in his seat for the umpteenth time in the last minutes. He watched Steve using his right hand to place his braced leg into a different position while his left hand rested pretty much useless in his lap. Danny knew that he didn't have enough strength in his left arm to help lift the leg. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good. The brace gets uncomfortable after a few hours. I hate this shit," Steve said frustrated and gave up finding a more comfortable position.

"Uncle Steve, that is not a nice word. Pay up," Grace scolded him. She had sneaked up on them. "I'm getting rich this week; Danno had to pay ten bucks already." Grace grinned at her father.

"He did?" Steve looked at Grace to elaborate.

"Uh huh, he cursed at his crutches. Loudly," she told them matter of factly.

"That I can understand," Steve muttered under his breath. He himself got really annoyed at his inability to walk without the aid of the crutch. Unfortunately he could only use one, and putting weight on his injured leg still hurt.

"Uncle Steve, when will you lose the brace on your leg? Jenny in our class wears a brace almost like yours all the time. Do you have to wear it forever, too?"

"No, Gracie. Only for a little bit longer, I get rid of it maybe next week or the week after that. My leg's almost all healed," Steve told Danny's daughter.

"Will you come in the water then? I miss swimming with you."

"Yeah, we can do that," Steve told her with a smile. He had been in the water a couple of times already, and even though he couldn't really use his left shoulder, he had no problem swimming one armed. Besides his shoulder would be a lot better in two weeks, at least he hoped so.

Grace beamed at them thinking of the prospect of being in the ocean again in a couple of weeks. She turned and was back to her 'project' just as fast as she had come to the table.

"You sure you can do that?" Danny asked.

"Danny, I can swim with both hands bound behind my back. I can move in the water a lot easier than on land, besides my therapist said swimming would be good as long as I didn't overdo it."

"Speaking of overdoing it, wasn't it risky to move around without the wheelchair, and not even using crutches?" Doris asked, coming back to the time in Washington.

"No, not really, I had a very nice crutch actually," Steve said and smiled at his girlfriend.

"Hey! Not nice," Catherine answered in mock anger.

_**Washington D.C. – American University – 2006**_

"Before you tell me all your life's secrets will you excuse me for a minute?" Cath asked as she stood up from the table and motioned to the restrooms at the back of the restaurant.

"Of course. You want me to order something to drink for you?" Steve asked seeing the waiter coming their way.

"Yeah, surprise me," she told him with a smile.

Steve watched her leave and when Tom, their waiter, reached their table he ordered an orange juice for himself and for Catherine. She had told him last Sunday that she didn't like white wine, but enjoyed a good red one, but not in public. That was information to file away for later use, and to ask why no alcohol in public.

It took only a few minutes for their refreshments to arrive, but he didn't order any food since Cath was not back yet.

Steve wondered what was taking her so long. He looked at the area of the facilities but couldn't see anything unusual. A couple of minutes later he decided to go check on Catherine. Over ten minutes seemed like a long time to him.

Steve slowly stood up, but had to grip the chair's backrest to keep his balance. He looked at the distance to the restroom area and calculated if he could make it unaided. If he left the table there would be nothing he could hold on to.

He had a bad feeling about why Cath was still not back. He couldn't explain it but he just knew that something was wrong.

Making up his mind he took his first tentative step toward his goal. Encouraged by the fact that he still wasn't dizzy, he made his way through the restaurant as fast as he could. He was rather slow, and his right leg trembled and hurt from the strain he put on it, but a minute later he pushed open the door leading to the small hall where the restrooms were situated.

What he saw made him stop in his tracks. He narrowed his eyes and took in the situation. Catherine was standing at the end of the hallway, obviously arguing with a guy in front of her. Steve couldn't hear what she was saying but her gestures made it clear that she was not amused.

"Don't touch me," she loudly called out and gave the man a little push.

That was the signal for Steve to move. He walked as fast as his hurting leg would allow across the hall. He was almost in touching range when Cath obviously had had enough and kneed her opponent in the groin. But instead of going down, he howled in pain and slapped her across the face.

That was probably the worst he could have done.

Steve was sure that Catherine would have been able to handle that moron, it was Luces as Steve now realized, on her own. But before Steve could stop himself he descended on Luces and had him against the wall with his arm behind his back and the shoulder almost pulled out of its socket.

That punk had hit his girl… wow, where did that come from… and that was absolutely unacceptable.

Steve had his still weaker right arm at Luces' neck and pressed the moron's head into the unforgiving wall. Steve held Luces in place with his left that still held his opponent's arm in a strong grip.

"Move and I'll break your arm," Steve warned him.

"Let me go, you freak," Luces called out and struggled against Steve. But he stopped when Steve pushed his bent arm a bit more upward. Threatening not only to snap Luces' wrist but also to dislocate his shoulder.

Steve heard Luces groan in pain and was glad that he stopped his struggle to break free. Steve was not sure how much longer he could keep his hold on Luces.

Steve turned to Cath and saw a trickle of blood running down from her nose, which only fueled Steve's anger.

"Are you okay?" Steve asked her softly.

Cath only nodded and looked more pissed than hurt.

It took another moment for two men from the security service to arrive on the scene. They had a police officer in tow and not a minute later handcuffs clicked around Luces' wrists. He had gone rather quiet after realizing what he had done.

"Lieutenant McGarrett, fancy meeting you again," Officer Ash said to Steve. "Is this going to become your new hobby? Getting into fights?" The officer who he had met after the Metro incident asked.

"Guess I simply have bad timing," Steve answered and leaned back against the wall.

"I think your timing is perfect. Thank you for coming to look for me," Cath said as she stepped closer and took his arm to give him much needed support.

"Do you want to press charges, ma'am?"

"Yes, absolutely," Cath answered without hesitation.

"Good. I'm afraid I have to ask you both to accompany me down to the station," Officer Ash informed them.

"Can we meet you there? I want a medic take a look at Lt. Rollins, and I can't walk that far anyway," Steve had to admit.

"Steve, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just need to sit down soon." Steve was very pleased that he still wasn't dizzy, but he felt his strength leaving him at an alarming rate. And he wanted to avoid a breakdown in public.

He knew from experience that his condition could deteriorate very fast.

"Steve, I'm fine, I don't need any medical attention," Cath said, obviously having no desire to see any medical personal.

"Just humor me, please? We can go down to see coach Redding, he is a trained paramedic."

"When you do, tell him to write down your injuries and treatment. We need that for the report," Officer Ash added to Steve's argumentation.

After hearing that, Cath gave up her resistance and Steve promised to come to the station as soon as they could.

They both watched Luces being led away by the police officer and Steve turned to Cath. "I'm sorry about all this. It's not how I envisioned our evening."

"Why are you apologizing? That idiot Luces is the one to blame," Cath answered as they made their way to the elevator.

Steve had to lean a lot more on his friend than he liked and his leg hurt a lot more than just a few minutes ago.

"I think you need that EMT of yours more than I do," Cath told Steve and very unceremoniously put Steve's right arm over her shoulder. The fact that Steve didn't even try to fight her was more than enough answer to her suspicion how he was doing. "Can you make it for a few more minutes?"

"Yeah, I'll be okay. Cath?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for being so cool about all this," Steve said.

"You're welcome," she answered with a smile.

Steve held on to Cath and the handrail, trying to shake out his leg that was threatening to cramp. Steve felt really shaky and he was not sure he could stay upright if he let go of the handrail.

Thankfully they didn't need to find out. When the door opened coach Redding stood right in front of them, ready to step into the elevator.

"Steve! What the heck happened to you guys? Ma'am are you okay?" The tall burly man asked.

He didn't even wait for an answer but took charge right away. He turned and yelled back at the open door of their changing area. "Benny, get out here!"

A moment later a young man, who looked a lot like the coach, appeared. "Yes, dad?"

"Help me get Steve to the treatment room."

It only took them a minute to get them both into a room equipped with two massage tables and lots of cabinets on the walls. It was obviously the room where the athletes were treated for smaller injuries and massages.

Steve didn't make it to the couch before his leg started cramping. He couldn't keep the pained groan in when the intense pain hit.

"Just a sec, Steve," the coach helped him sit on the edge of the massage table and before Steve even knew what was happening he was lying pant less on his stomach and Redding was massaging his cramping thigh. "Benny, get me some oil out of the cabinet, and then take a look at, I'm sorry, I don't know your name," he said to his son but looked at Catherine. All the while he worked on Steve's upper leg muscles.

"Catherine," she said and looked at Steve who held on to the massage table like his life depended on it. She could see that he was in a great deal of pain.

Steve relaxed a little when the massage took effect and loosened the cramped muscles at least a little bit. The pain was intense after the nerves decided they also needed to have some fun. The pain from the irritated nerves was the worst and he knew that he needed to take his pain meds, but that was something he tried to avoid as much as possible.

"Steve, you have your pain meds with you?" Redding asked, fully knowing that he couldn't massage the pain away. He was only able to loosen up the muscles, but that wouldn't prevent the intense nerve pain Steve was obviously just suffering through.

"Pant pocket," Steve groaned out.

A minute later a glass of water and one of his pain pills appeared in front of him. Steve turned onto his side and swallowed the pill, washing it down with the water. The cramping in his leg had stopped but the nerve pain was getting worse, so he stayed on his side and grabbed at his hurting and trembling leg.

He watched Catherine getting thoroughly checked by Benny, and waited for the drugs to kick in. He knew that they would probably knock him out for a few minutes, but right now, with the intense pain in his leg, he wouldn't mind one bit.

Steve already felt slightly detached from the scene in front of him and blinked a few times, but knew that it was a lost cause. He registered that Redding placed a blanket over him, but that was the last he knew before he slipped into a short drug induced nap.

H50 – H50 – H50


	14. Chapter 14

**_Thank you all for reading. Also a big thank you to all the guest reviewers who I can't thank personally._**

**_This chapter sets the scene for the last two chapters. Yes, this story slowly comes to an end. But not to fear there is a lot more in the works. You should head over to my profile to see what is coming next._**

* * *

**Purple Heart – Chapter 14**

Attending the basketball game had been a real turning point for Steve. Even though they never even made it to the actual game. Or to dinner.

Steve had been out for almost an hour, and when he woke up Ty was waiting to take them first to the precinct and then home to Steve's place. Steve was thankful that Catherine had taken his phone from his pocket to call his friend and explain the situation.

They had spent two hours in the precinct giving their testimony. Officer Ash had told them that Luces had already been processed and would spend the night behind bars. A judge had set him free in the morning, but he still had to face the charges of assault and battery.

After the 'interesting' Sunday Steve had been to physical therapy almost daily, finally being able doing exercises while standing up. He still used the wheelchair to get to work, but as soon as he reached the office he shared with Catherine and Ensign Lane, the chair would be parked in the corner. To walk around the building, he relied on crutches. Slowly at first and always accompanied by Catherine for the first two weeks.

But it seemed clear that the vertigo was gone for good. After the Sunday at the game he never suffered an attack again, at least none that threatened to make him fall.

"Cath, come take a look at this," Steve spoke into the quiet of the room.

"What do you have?" Cath asked as she came over to his desk and sat on the chair next to his wheelchair.

Today Steve hadn't ditched his chair the minute he had come into the office. He had had several hours of testing at the hospital that morning and his right leg was very painful. So much so, that it hurt too much to put any weight on his leg. While sitting it was okay, and more uncomfortable than actually painful. But it was definitely a nuisance and he knew better than to trust it for walking.

"You remember that there was never enough evidence left at the explosion sites to determine what triggered the explosion?" Steve asked and looked at Catherine.

"Yeah, you said they couldn't say for sure if the bombs were on a timer or remote controlled."

"Right. The explosion was always so powerful and the detonators so very well placed that they never found fool-proof evidence for either theory," Steve explained further. He had talked to a few experts over the last few weeks and couldn't believe that there really wasn't enough evidence to back either theory.

"And you have found something?"

"I'm not sure, but I think so," Steve said as he opened the video file.

The scene showed a small group of soldiers approaching an abandoned house, and then they only saw a big cloud of smoke and a few of the soldiers scattered around on the ground.

"This is about a week after the explosion I was caught in."

"This is how it happened?" Cath asked. She never saw any footage of the actual explosion Steve had been hurt in; the short footage with the helicopter was all they ever found.

"Yeah, pretty much the same. We used the same formation, checked every house and then suddenly there was a big boom. I have found a few other scenes, just like this one," Steve said and motioned to the screen, at the same time opening another video file. "Now, look at this."

It was clear that the next footage was practically identical. It was surely a different location and a different group, but it was clear that the approach was just the same. And unfortunately, with the same outcome.

"Did you notice anything in both of them?" Steve looked questioningly at her.

"Not really. What do mean?"

"Look at the top of the video, a little to the left," Steve said and played the file again.

"There's a reflection."

"Yes. And I've seen this before. An hour ago I watched footage with the same reflection in it," Steve told her of what he thought was an exciting discovery.

"You think it has something to do with triggering the explosion?" Cath asked a bit skeptical.

"Yes, I think someone was watching the scene and blew the house when the team was close enough," Steve told her, sure of his theory. "Can we get satellite imaging of the area and time?"

"We could try," Cath answered.

"If we could find out what that reflection really was, we might get closer to finding out who was setting these traps for our people."

"If, and that is a big if, these reflections are anything else than some old wreckage for example, we might be able to follow their movement and figure out where they are now," Cath said, and seeing Steve getting all excited raised her hand to calm is enthusiasm a bit. "This is a long shot, Steve."

"Yeah, but it's better than what we have right now," Steve interjected. "This could be the breakthrough we are waiting for. Come on, who do we have to go to for better imaging?" Steve wheeled back from the desk and seemed ready to go no matter what.

"Steve, this is the Pentagon. You don't just **_go_** see a guy for anything," Catherine said and had to smile at Steve's gung ho attitude.

"Why not? People are dying as we speak. I don't have time to fill out a bunch of forms and wait for weeks for something to happen. So, who do I have to talk to?" Steve asked and unconsciously intensified the massaging of his right thigh.

"Are you okay?" Cath softly asked and laid her hand on his slightly trembling leg. "You haven't walked at all today, is your leg bothering you?"

"I'm fine," Steve said, but looking at Catherine and seeing the worry in her eyes he corrected that statement. "It hurts since after PT. But I will be fine, don't worry."

"Did you take anything for it?" Cath knew that he went by without any pain medication on most days, but also knew that he was in serious pain on other days.

"No, the pills make me sleepy," Steve honestly answered. His doctor had weaned him off the heavy opiate painkiller, but the one he was taking on occasion was still a prescription drug and not some OTC meds.

"I have some Tylenol, you want those?"

Steve had to smile at her willingness to help, but those pills wouldn't do a damn thing for the nerve pain. "No, thanks. If it gets worse I will take something. Now, about that guy to see about the imaging."

H50 – H50 – H50

It took Steve almost a week to finally get the footage he wanted. He went from A to B, over C, D, E, F and finally back to A. He cashed in favors left and right, and Cath was sure that he finally got the footage because the people got tired of him relentlessly harassing them every day.

"I think this is a new record. I never got anything in one week. I'm impressed, Steve," Cath told him when he came into the office and she could show him the flash drive with the requested material.

Steve only grinned at her and limped over to his desk. Today was the second day that he came to work without his wheelchair or his crutches. Ty had picked him up and brought him to the Pentagon. He now gratefully sat down at his desk. It was harder to walk today than yesterday, probably because he was slightly dizzy and had to concentrate on walking straight. He woke up in the morning with a headache and the feeling of not being quite alright.

The headache went away rather quickly, but he was still left with a very light case of vertigo, the first in weeks. He had already made an appointment at the clinic for the afternoon; he would not risk a setback by ignoring any warning signs.

"Did you take a look?" Steve asked and switched on his computer.

"No. I think you deserve the first look," Cath answered him and handed over the drive.

"Thank you." Steve looked around the office, only now registering that Ensign Lane was not here. "Where is Dana?"

"She was called to see our CO. She didn't say why."

"Oh."

"You look tired, Steve. Did you sleep okay?"

"Wasn't the best night. But I'm okay." Steve didn't want to elaborate that he woke up from one of the worst nightmares he had in a long time.

"I'm sorry I couldn't meet you for dinner last night," Cath apologized for her very short noticed cancellation of their dinner plans.

"It's okay, Cath. How was your evening?"

"It was great. My dad wanted to meet you actually," Cath told him with a smile.

"Uh, really?"

"Yeah. He invited you to come see them next chance we have," Cath said and was not sure what she thought about her father's eagerness to meet Steve McGarrett. But she would find out what that was all about.

"Oh—kay." Steve looked at Cath, and was secretly thrilled that she had talked with her dad about him.

While they had been talking Steve had put the flash drive in and sorted through the files, finding what he was looking for. He opened the file and again was amazed at the quality of the satellite photos.

The images were all in very high resolution and they could zoom down to almost every detail on them. It was easy to spot what had caused the reflection they had seen in the video. Almost perfectly hidden from view there was a lone figure lying in the dust, aiming his binoculars at a target that they knew would be blown up in a matter of minutes.

There was no doubt in Steve's mind that they just discovered how all those explosions had always been perfectly timed. It was clear as day that they were witness to an ambush, perfectly executed by the insurgents group they were after for months now.

And this was their first solid lead. All they now had to do was follow that guy back to his headquarters and hopefully figure out where they were now. And then they could plan their counter attack and eliminate this threat to their troops.

H50 – H50 – H50


	15. Chapter 15

**Purple Heart – Chapter 15**

_**Walter Reed National Military Medical Center**_

"Lieutenant McGarrett, please come in, have a seat," Lieutenant Colonel Gregory told Steve when he stepped into the treatment room.

"I'm sorry I'm late, Sir," Steve apologized for being almost five minutes late. "Major Adams had a few questions; I met him on the way."

"That's okay, no problem. I'm glad to see you back on your feet. How are you doing? "The doctor, who Steve had met a few weeks ago, asked.

"Until this morning really well, Sir."

"What changed this morning?" Gregory looked curiously at his patient.

"I woke up with a pretty bad headache that lasted for about an hour. Then it was kind of come and go all day," Steve told him about the annoying headache that had been bugging him. "And I've been kind of dizzy, and sounds are also kind of muffled, you know?"

"Have you experienced any vertigo in the last couple of weeks?"

"No, Sir. Not at all. This is the first in weeks."

"Do you still have a headache?"

"Yes, Sir. It's mostly located right behind my left ear," Steve answered and touched the sore spot.

"I took a look at your latest MRI, and that looks really good. The fracture is completely healed and I must say the guy who operated on your inner ear did a great job." Colonel Gregory took out an otoscope from one of the cabinets as he spoke.

Steve watched the instrument wearily, remembering the first few times it was used on him. Back then it had really hurt, well maybe hurt was a slight exaggeration, but it had been very uncomfortable.

Sensing Steve's uneasiness, Gregory smiled at his patient. "I promise it won't hurt."

"I've heard that before," Steve mumbled.

Gregory kept his promise, the exam didn't really hurt, but Steve was still glad when it was over.

He looked at the frowning doctor. "What? Did you find something?"

"You have gone swimming almost every day, is that right?"

"Yeah, most days. Why?"

"Did you use the ear plug at all times?" Gregory asked and looked at Steve.

"Yeah… well, two days ago I lost it while swimming," Steve admitted.

"Did you get out of the water right away?"

"Eh… maybe five minutes later?" Steve wasn't sure how long he kept swimming without the aid that was supposed to protect his ear canal from the water.

"I figured as much. You have water in your ear and it looks like a mild infection," Gregory explained to Steve. "It's nothing to worry about, but because of your still healing injury it is affecting you more than it would anyone else."

"Can you do something about it?"

"Of course. You'll get an antibiotic that should clear this up in a few days. I don't expect any complications from it."

"So, it's not from the injury to the inner ear?" Steve had been worried that the balance disorder would force him out of the Navy.

"No, it's a simple ear infection. It has nothing to do with the traumatic injury," Gregory explained. "However, I want you to suspend your routine. No swimming for at least a week and no PT for a couple of days."

"But, Sir—"

"That was not a suggestion, Lieutenant."

"Yes, Sir." Steve knew when to shut up.

"The antibiotics should help soon. Come back if you develop a fever, the pain gets worse or you experience severe dizziness. Otherwise I would like to see you again next week. Make an appointment when you leave."

"Yes, Sir."

"Okay. Do you have any questions?" Colonel Gregory asked as he handed Steve a prescription.

"No, Sir, no questions," Steve said and stood up from his perch on the exam table.

"Good, then I see you next week. Take care, Lieutenant."

Steve took that as his cue to be dismissed and left to meet with Catherine who had driven him to the hospital and waited for him downstairs in the cafeteria.

H50 – H50 – H50

Cath looked around the cafeteria and was glad that Steve didn't have to stay at the hospital anymore. Seeing all those injured soldiers reminded her again how lucky her friend had been.

To finally be able to walk again was indeed a great gift. And she hoped that at least some of the injured here would be equally lucky.

She looked up from her musings when she saw Steve approaching. Cath had worried about him all day. She knew that he had a headache most of today and she also worried about his limp being a lot more pronounced than it had been this morning.

But the smile on his face eased her worry somewhat. It seemed whatever was wrong wasn't too bad.

"Hey, Lieutenant, how'd it go?" Cath asked when Steve was seated across from her.

"Good. Just an infection. Should be better in a couple of days," Steve told her the outcome of the exam. "Thanks for waiting for me."

"No problem. So, are you ready to head home?"

"Well, it's still early; I thought I'll take you to dinner. You know, for all your trouble and all," Steve told her with a smile. He had been planning this evening for a few days, and he had every intention to take her to that fancy restaurant in Georgetown he had found the other day.

"Oh. You want to wine and dine me?" Cath asked rather delightedly. She had been sure that he would want to go home. Probably to fall asleep on the couch again. This was a nice surprise.

"If you'll let me."

"I'd be delighted," Cath told him with an even bigger smile.

Steve shook his head at the silly conversation, but turned serious when he changed the topic. "You think we will get the new footage a bit faster now that we have found evidence?

"I'm sure they will allow us direct access to the data," Cath tried to reassure him, sure that they will be granted a higher clearance for easy and fast searching.

"You think?"

"I'm sure. Then we will be able to follow their movements and hopefully catch up to them."

"That'll be great," Steve said without much enthusiasm.

Cath looked at her friend and wondered for a moment what was wrong when it suddenly dawned on her. "You wish you could be on location to take them down, don't you?"

"Sure I do. I wish I could be back with my unit. But I don't even know if that will ever happen."

"Steve, you have come such a long way, I'm sure you will get back to full duty soon," Cath said and hoped he would only leave when he was really ready for it. "I know you miss your team and probably also the action, but I hope your time in D.C. has not been all bad for you."

"It was in the beginning. But not anymore. I even enjoy it. Well, at least most of the time," Steve told her grinning from ear to ear.

Cath hoped he meant he enjoyed her company, but was too chicken to ask.

"Cath, I hope we can stay in contact, and I would really like to see you on my next leave."

"I would like that," Cath told him and was really happy that Steve indirectly admitted enjoying their time together. For the first time she thought that despite being in the Navy, a long term friendship would be possible.

"Do you mind dropping me off at my apartment on the way? We need to change for tonight."

"Oh. You're taking me to a real restaurant?" Cath laughed and already thought about what to wear. And she asked herself even more what Steve would look like all dressed up.

"Yeah. I hope that is okay?" Steve looked like he had second thoughts about whatever he had planned.

"When is our reservation?" Cath asked.

"Twenty hundred."

"Then I'll pick you up at seven thirty? That enough time?" Cath had no idea where they were going, but hoped half an hour would be enough to reach their destination.

"That's great. You ready to leave?" Steve asked and stood up from the table.

Cath watched her friend carefully and noticed the slight wince when he stretched out his leg, but chose not to comment on it. Instead she offered her arm for him to take, seeing that he had grabbed the back of the chair to keep his balance.

She was very pleased that he didn't have a problem with accepting this offer of help.

A few minutes later they had reached her car and were on their way.

H50 – H50 – H50

_**Steve McGarrett's home, Hawaii, present time**_

"You're telling us that you actually made it to dinner that night?" Danny interrupted his friend's narrative.

"What kind of question is that?" Steve looked at Danny and his friends who were snickering. Shaking his head he continued. "For your information, yes, we made it to dinner, and it was very nice," Steve informed is friends, looking at Cath for confirmation.

"Yeah, it actually was. In fact, almost as good as the dessert," Cath told them with a twinkle in her eyes.

"Oh please, spare us that," Danny told them laughing.

"What did you have for dessert, Uncle Steve?" Grace, who again sneaked up on them asked.

"Uh… chocolate… something?"

"You don't remember?"

Steve could remember the 'dessert' very vividly, just thinking about it made him slightly blush, but he couldn't tell Gracie about the special treat he got from Cath that evening. She had been very creative and had taken over his body and soul that night. He hadn't been allowed to move a muscle, and the way Cath had taken care of him and satisfied his needs had been breathtaking and something he had never experienced before.

It had been lovemaking on a completely new level. He had always been an attentive lover, but that night it had only been about him. Catherine had said it was her gift to him for his soon to be departure. Something for him to remember when they couldn't be together. And remember he did. To this day.

"Uncle Steve?"

"It was a very special dessert, one we both will never forget, Grace." Cath saved him from answering. "I remember it was very sweet, delicious in fact and I would love to have that particular dessert again."

Steve blushed even more and Danny coughed. Doris shook her head laughing at her son's discomfort, and Chin and Max just shook their heads at this side of their boss.

Grace looked suspiciously at the grownups. It's not like she was a kid anymore, "You're not talking about anything to put in your mouth, do you?"

Steve almost choked on his drink and started coughing which woke the pain in his shoulder and he couldn't keep in a groan. Uncontrolled shoulder movement still hurt, and Steve tried to avoid that at all costs, but was a bit overwhelmed by the coughing fit.

Almost suffocating on his drink had a positive side effect though; it made him forget about another part of his anatomy that had been vying for attention while he went down memory lane just a minute ago.

"Hey, you okay?" Steve heard Cath asking but was still not quite able to answer in a coherent manner.

"Uh huh," he panted out between a cough and a hiccup.

Great, just what he needed. Between the coughing and the agonizing pain in his shoulder, that was almost all consuming despite the pain killers he took not that long ago, he felt really miserable all of a sudden. His shoulder injury normally only hurt this bad right after PT, and certainly not when he had just taken his medication.

"Steve?" Cath again.

"I don't feel so good," he whispered and hung his head. He felt slightly sick and wondered if it was something he ate.

"Do you feel sick?"

"No… I… maybe a little," Steve finally admitted. He took a deep breath to control the pain and nausea. "I'll be okay, just moved wrong," he told his friends, trying to assure them that he would be alright.

"Does this happen often?" Danny wanted to know.

"No." And it really didn't. Steve had no idea why his shoulder suddenly felt like it was pulled out of its socket. The whole area was tense and cramping. There also was a slight tingling sensation in his fingers.

Steve looked up and saw Grace still standing next to his chair, watching him intently. "Grace, don't worry, I'm fine."

"Okay." Grace looked a little doubtful, but didn't comment further on what she had just witnessed. "Danno, can I have another ice-cream?" She asked why she had come up from the beach in the first place.

"Yeah, sure. I'm sure Steve has more ice-cream stashed in the freezer," Danny told his daughter, knowing that his partner always had the frozen treats handy.

"Yeah, Grace, there is chocolate and strawberry. Take whatever you like."

"Thanks, Uncle Steve. Does anyone want some?" Grace asked but was already halfway into the kitchen.

They watched Grace get herself a bowl of strawberry ice cream and come back out.

"I'll eat it down at the water," she said on her way down to the waterline.

"So, you two made it to dinner…" Chin tried to get the story going again.

"Yeah, Steve took me to that really fancy restaurant in Georgetown," Cath told them. "It had just opened a few weeks before, and it was almost impossible to get a table."

Cath turned to Steve, "How did you manage to get reservations?"

"I have my ways," Steve said smiling.

"Oh, really?" Cath laughed at that. "Who did you bribe to get that table?"

"What? No one," Steve said it like he felt offended by the mere idea of bribing anyone. No need to tell her that the reservations had cost him over a hundred bucks. He grinned at her, now that the pain was slowly receding, "I guess it was my charming personality."

"Ri—ght." Cath was obviously not convinced. "But whatever you had to do it was absolutely worth it. That was the best meal I ever had." Not to mention the dessert, she thought.

"Well, I sure hope so," Steve said laughing and thinking about the check.

"And the next day were you able to get more help about the footage you uncovered?" Danny asked.

"Yeah, we did. Steve wouldn't leave the poor guys alone until they granted us both direct access to the imaging and videos," Cath explained. "I can tell you my respect for the guys out in the field went up a notch after going through all the footage. It was something I hadn't done before and experiencing first hand, or at least almost first hand, what Steve and his team were doing… well it was something else."

Steve looked at Cath and remembered his last two weeks in Washington.

H50 – H50 – H50


	16. Chapter 16

_**Dear readers, thank you all so much for patiently waiting for the final chapter. I won't bore you with any excuses. I'm truly sorry it took so long to post this chapter. Please know that even if this might happen again with one of the next stories, I will never abandon a story.**_

_**A huge thanks to Cokie for her help and encouragement. Thank you my friend.**_

_**This was an incredible journey and this story is very dear to my heart. It has a great personal meaning for me and I like to thank all of you for embracing this very different story in such a positive way. You have no idea what that means to me.**_

* * *

**Purple Heart – Chapter 16**

_**Pentagon – Washington D.C. – Late Spring 2006**_

In the last week, they had witnessed countless raids, OPs and just plain marching on the dusty roads. But after spending endless hours in front of their computer screens... a task which still gave Steve a headache after a long day, they were finally sure where the insurgence's headquarters was located.

"Cath, I'm telling you this is it," Steve said and pointed to the house on the screen. The same house he had pointed out two days ago.

But back then their CO had wanted more facts before they would send in a team. Now Steve was certain they had enough proof to convince their CO to green-light a raid.

"Are you sure, Steve?"

"Positive. Yes, I'm sure." Steve had had enough skepticism from everyone by now.

"Steve, we just need to make sure that the Intel is correct. We can't send anyone in with bogus Intel."

"Don't you think I know that? I went in often enough with sketchy Intel on the target." Steve knew it didn't make sense to go off on Catherine like that, so he took a deep breath and tried to calm down. "Listen, Catherine, every person we followed has, at some point, ended up at this house. They always leave well equipped. I'm telling you, this is their headquarters."

"Okay. We will present this to Commander Brennan, and I'm sure he will make the necessary arrangements."

"You don't sound convinced." Steve shook his head and simply didn't know how to change her mind.

She had seen the same footage he had, and still their opinions about what they had witnessed differed greatly. Steve knew, or at least suspected, it was because of their different backgrounds. Steve didn't stop to think about the political hurdles they would have to overcome.

He hated bureaucracy with a passion, and his most important goal was to take the threat away from his fellow men. He was sure no one in D.C. wanted to see their forces in danger, but their approach to changing something was very different.

And one thing was very clear for Steve; he could never work in Washington on a permanent basis.

Steve had nothing against paperwork; it was necessary for a unit or team to work efficiently. Therefore they had to always keep their paperwork up to date. But he simply had to be out in the field with his men. He was not a desk jockey; he would go stir crazy.

Leading by example and from the front was not just a phrase hammered into him during his training as an Officer and while becoming a SEAL. For Steve it was how he wanted; how he needed to lead his team.

It took him a lot of willpower to sit in his office and watch others having all the action.

"Hey, Steve. Come on, it will work out in the end." Cath smiled at him, obviously knowing that he was a bit frustrated at the moment.

"I know. I just wish it would go a bit faster—"

"Faster? Steve, you've got to be kidding me," Catherine interrupted her friend. "To be at this point after just one week is unheard of. You have any idea how long it normally takes to just get access to the material?"

"Eh…"

"Right. To have results now, and probably organizing a raid in the next 48 hours is a huge accomplishment," Cath told Steve with conviction. "And it was all your doing."

"No, it wasn't. Don't say that. You worked just as hard."

"Yeah, but you pushed for results, and saw details I would never have paid attention to. Guess 'attention to detail' did pay off," Cath told him smiling.

"It was drilled into us. They always said 'attention to detail' in every situation saves lives. Guess they were right."

"Let's go see Commander Brennan."

"Okay," Steve said and got up from his chair.

For a few weeks now he had not used any aids to walk around. He had given back his wheelchair two weeks ago, and his crutches were gathering dust in his office. The only concession he still made due to his still hurting leg was that he didn't take the Metro but came into work either with Ty or Catherine, who picked him up on her way.

Last week's ear infection had cleared up rather quickly, and the lingering vertigo left him after just two days.

Steve now felt almost back to normal. The only problem he still had was that he couldn't run. His leg started to hurt in earnest when he tried running on the treadmill or on the track. He could handle the lingering nerve pain during normal activities, but while running, it was just unbearable.

In one more week he was supposed to report to Coronado for evaluation and training. If everything went according to plan, he would be back to full duty in a month.

But before that could happen, Steve wanted to finish his job here in Washington.

"Are you coming?" Cath called from the door, interrupting his thoughts.

"Yeah," Steve said and hurried out the door to catch up with her.

H50 – H50 – H50

The meeting with Commander Brennan went better than they expected and he promised to get the operation underway.

It still took two more days of waiting until it finally was time to watch the raid over the live feed. Steve was a bit anxious to watch from a distance. That was a completely new experience for him, to see his team but being unable to help them.

Of course he knew they were under the command of a capable lieutenant at the moment, one who would do a good job. But Steve still wished he was there, although, of course, he knew that was impossible. He wasn't fit for duty yet, but hoped to be back in action shortly.

"You okay?" Catherine whispered into the semi-darkness of the control room. The night vision cameras immersed everything in an eerie green light.

"Fine," Steve whispered back equally soft voiced.

"We're ready when you are." They heard Lieutenant Mason Wright's voice. He was the temporary team leader as long as Steve was out of commission.

"It's a GO," the unknown voice from the command center was heard over the line.

The live feed from the action cams mounted to their helmets, delivered a clear picture of what was going on thousands of miles away.

_**Outskirts of Erbil, Northern Iraq – Late Spring 2006 – 0200 hours local time – 1900 hours D.C.**_

Lieutenant Wright looked at his men and knew they were extra motivated tonight. They had the chance to not only eliminate a threat to the troops but to get payback for their injured CO.

For their friend, who was still suffering as a result from the explosion several weeks ago. Officially this, of course was not to avenge what had happened to their friend, but no one expected them not to think about Lieutenant McGarrett. They knew he had fought so hard to get back to his men, but didn't manage to do so in time to be part of this raid. So, in a way, they were all fighting for him tonight.

Mason was sure that he had the team's full cooperation and support, but he was no dummy and knew they missed their CO. To be honest, so did he and he hoped McGarrett would be able to come back to them soon.

Of course it was also a possibility that he would get a different post after his recovery…

"LT, we're ready," Chief Myers, a good friend of McGarrett, interrupted Mason's thoughts.

"Alright. Let's take them out."

Mason motioned for his men to spread out and move towards their target.

It was a more or less abandoned house on the outskirts of Erbil; a city with a population of a little over a million. But out here slightly south of the town, it was mostly deserted although according to their Intel, the house and the region was far more populated than they liked to make it look like.

A minute later they blew in the door and the team stormed into the house from the front, while the second team secured the back.

H50 – H50 – H50

Steve's gaze was locked on the scenes in front of him. He watched with satisfaction how 'his' team entered the house.

It only took a moment before the first shots were fired. No one had expected the insurgents to surrender without a fight, but they were hoping there wouldn't be any casualties tonight. At least not on their side.

Steve longed to be with his men; he hated to be condemned to watch his fellow men from afar. All logic he used before to tell himself that he simply couldn't be with them due to his injuries, that he would be a liability, flew out the window the second he saw his team storm the house.

Despite his inner turmoil Steve kept absolutely calm on the outside. His training dictated his behavior, and keeping calm even under the most stressful situations was ingrained in him. But he was sure Catherine knew that he was practically vibrating with contained energy.

"Lieutenants, that was excellent Intel," their CO addressed them into the quiet of the room, after the firefight came to an end and they heard the all clear from Lieutenant Wright.

"Thank you, Sir," Catherine voiced both their thanks.

"Outstanding work. It's a shame that you're going to leave us so soon, Lieutenant McGarrett."

Steve wasn't sure what to say to that, so he simply acknowledged the praise. "Yes, Sir."

He had no desire to stay any longer than absolutely necessary, but it would not be a good idea to voice that opinion in front of his direct superior. He had talked to Catherine the other day about his feelings of staying in Washington, and she thankfully understood his need to go back to his 'real' job.

They all watched the short aftermath of the raid before the feed was cut and they were left with a black screen.

"We will get a sit rep in the next hour, Sir," Catherine told her CO of the scheduled conference call that hopefully would go according to plan after the raid went without a hitch.

"Good. Keep me informed. Lieutenant McGarrett, I like to see you in my office tomorrow at ten hundred." Commander Brennan didn't even wait for Steve's acknowledgment but left the command center rather quickly.

"What's that about, Steve?" Catherine looked at her friend.

"I don't know," Steve answered honestly. He had no idea what his CO could want from him in the morning. He already had his marching orders, so it couldn't be about that. At least Steve hoped it wasn't about that.

"Well, whatever it is, I think we should celebrate the success tonight. I have something special planned," Cath told him low voiced, so that none of the others in the room could hear them.

"Something special?"

"You'll see," Cath said with a smile.

It took another four hours before they could leave. The conference call took a lot longer than they thought, but when they were finally able to establish a link to Wright's group they were happy to learn that there had been no casualties or injuries.

All insurgents had been arrested and were already en route to the next bigger base. They also found detailed plans for their next activities along with weapons and explosives. The raid was a full success all around.

Since it was almost midnight when Steve and Cath left the Pentagon they postponed their celebration to the next evening. Unfortunately for the both of them and for Catherine's surprise, they never came to celebrate the next night.

When Steve met his CO the next morning he was informed that he would leave for Coronado that same evening. He had barely time to pack and meet with his doctors for the last time before he had to board a plane out of Washington.

He hadn't even had the chance to say good bye to Catherine in person since she had been in a meeting almost all day. He had called her from the airport and explained the situation. Naturally they were both disappointed about that outcome, but were powerless to change anything about it. Or about their luck.

H50 – H50 – H50

_**Steve McGarrett's home, Hawaii, present time**_

"So, you just left for Coronado? Just like that?" Danny asked his friend after Steve had finished his story.

"What do you mean 'just like that'?" Steve looked at Danny for an explanation.

"You spent a lot of time with Catherine in Washington, and then you just packed your bags and left?"

"I was ordered back to Coronado, Danny. It's not like I had a choice. Besides, no matter how much I enjoyed the time with Cath, I wanted to go back. I _**had**_ to go back," Steve said and looked at Catherine, already knowing that she understood. She knew what it had meant for him to be sidelined like he had been for so many weeks. "That is a downside being in the Military, you go where you're ordered to. And it's not like I had a desk job anyway."

"Yeah, I get that. But you make it sound like it was easy to—"

"It certainly wasn't easy, Danny," Steve interrupted. "But it was something we both knew would happen from the beginning, and maybe it was even easier that way. And we saw each other again sooner than we both thought," Steve said grinning.

"How?" Chin asked curiously.

"That is a story for another day," Catherine chimed in. It was clear that she didn't want to talk about it right now. "So, Danny, Steve told me you have a special session tomorrow with your therapist?"

"He is not _**my**_ therapist," Danny made his point clear. "It's the department's shrink," Danny said with distain.

"Oh, Danny, come on, you know it's standard protocol after you fire your weapon," Steve told him for probably the tenth time since Danny got the invitation.

"It's not about that, and you know it," Danny exclaimed and glared at Steve. He had been able to field the visit for the last three weeks, but now the shrink threatened to report him to the Governor if he refused to come to the session.

"Danny, we all have had to see the department's psychiatrist after we shot someone—"

"I didn't shoot just anyone, I shot _**you**_," Danny almost yelled. Realizing what he was doing he took a calming breath. "I know what this will be about, okay?"

"Danny! It. Was. Not. Your. Fault. How often do I have to tell you that? It was just friendly fire, it happens." Steve simply didn't know how to make Danny see that he was not to blame for what happened down at the harbor.

"I bet it never happened to you. So, don't tell me it is fine, it's not."

"No, it's not. And believe me I could have done without the bullet in my shoulder. Really, that was no fun. It hurt like hell, it still does. And maybe I won't get full range of motion back, or the shoulder will always hurt. But not for one minute have I thought that any of this is your fault, Danny." Steve looked at his friend, and he hoped Danny would see the sincerity behind his words. "I wish it didn't happen, Danny. But it did. I don't blame you for any of it, so please stop blaming yourself. Instead, put it behind you. Move on."

"I'll try. No promises," Danny said after a moment.

"That's all I'm asking."

H50 – H50 – H50

Twenty minutes later their little 'get-together' found a rather quick end. A thunderstorm could be seen on the horizon making its way towards the island. The wind picked up and they knew that a torrential downpour would follow soon.

"Danny, you sure you want to drive home? You and Grace could stay in the guestroom," Steve told his friend. "The storm will hit any minute," Steve said as he leaned against the doorframe watching his friends bringing in all the 'stuff' from the lanai.

He would help, but since he couldn't use his left arm to carry anything and needed his right one to hold on to the crutch, he wasn't of much help and more in the way than anything else. Besides, it looked like Max and Doris had it covered. They got along really well and were chatting animatedly while carrying in the last of the food into the kitchen.

Steve shook his head at the odd pair and looked at his friend and Gracie, who also looked at her dad, probably in the hope of staying a little longer.

"Nah, we'll be alright. It's only a five minute drive," Danny answered and motioned for Grace to move. "I'll call you when we're home, if that makes you happy."

"Just be careful, okay?" Steve knew that Danny could drive with just one good leg, but he also knew that it was not the best of circumstances.

"Isn't that normally my line?"

Steve only smiled at that and ushered them out the door. Of course not before he got a really good hug from Grace.

"Uncle Steve, I'm sorry I snooped around without asking you," she again apologized.

"That's okay, Gracie. Don't worry about it. If you have any more questions you come to me, okay? And when I'm better we can go to the 'Arizona' with your dad if you want to." Danny had mentioned before that his daughter wanted to go and Steve was happy that they wanted to include him on their trip.

"When will you be okay, Uncle Steve?"

"I'm not sure. In a couple of weeks or so," Steve told her.

He hoped to lose the brace in the next two weeks. That thing was really annoying and hurt after a while. He had a really hard time seeing the benefit of it, but his doctor insisted that he still needed to wear it. Steve had to grudgingly admit that his knee was a lot more stable with the brace on, but he did strengthening PT every day for his knee and hoped that it would also be okay in a couple of weeks.

"Come on, Monkey, we need to go now," her dad called from the car.

"Bye, Uncle Steve," Grace said and turned to join her dad who was waiting for her.

Steve waited until they left the driveway and then turned back into his living room where the rest of his Ohana was gathered and in the progress of saying good bye.

"Steve, I'll take Doris home," Chin told him on his way to the door. "Thanks for having me."

"Thanks, Chin." Steve was glad that his mom didn't want to stay for the night, but was happy that his friend took her home.

"Don't worry, Honey, Chin will make sure I'll get home safely." His mother smiled at him as she walked out the door.

"Good night, Steve. And thank you for inviting me. I enjoyed it very much."

Max was the last to leave and Steve sighed a breath of relief.

He didn't think that he could have kept it up for much longer. He was hurting, he was exhausted, and most of all he wanted to spend time alone with his girlfriend.

When he turned around from the door, said girlfriend stood right in front of him. Steve discarded his crutch against the door and leaned into her. He put both arms around her and breathed in the smell of her shampoo. Which caused him to chuckle.

"What?"

"You smell like grilled salmon," Steve told her still laughing.

"Guess I shouldn't have manned the grill," Catherine answered smiling. "How about we get rid of the smell with a shower?"

"We?" Steve asked.

"Yeah. I think you could use a very thorough cleaning… of course if you're tired…"

"I'm not _**that**_ tired," Steve interrupted her grinning.

"Yeah, I can feel that," Cath said laughing and pressed her body against his growing interest.

Steve enjoyed their little play and had no reason to hold back anymore. He had restrained himself for a couple of hours now, ever since he thought about the very special dessert. That image woke all kinds of feelings in him, in one part of his anatomy in particular. And if nothing happened soon, he was sure he would simply implode. Or explode. Which was much more likely.

"That's what you're doing to me," he whispered while kissing his way from her neck to her mouth.

Catherine pushed back a little, which elicited a frustrated groan from Steve, and motioned to the stairs, "We should take this upstairs."

"Hmmm." Steve's answer was not very coherent, but he moved to the stairs and a minute later they were standing on the second floor.

"Bedroom or bathroom?" Cath asked.

"Bed." As much as Steve wanted to 'play' with Cath in the shower, he knew that his leg wouldn't allow that. He was in too much pain and had been on his feet for too many hours to keep going.

"Good Choice."

And it sure was. The 'special dessert' they had in Washington had nothing on what Catherine had planned for Steve that night.

H50 – H50 – H50

* * *

_**Thank you all for reading.**_

_**A new adventure will start soon. Stay tuned.**_


End file.
